


Labrador

by Scorpius_Wears_Short_Skirts



Series: Dax's Septiplier Works [2]
Category: Youtube RPF, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Falling In Love, Fetish, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, In case it wasn't clear before, Jack is Bi, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mark is Demi, Misunderstandings, Non-Sexual Kink, Puppy Play, Separation Anxiety, Weird Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-07-26 11:26:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 33,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7572394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scorpius_Wears_Short_Skirts/pseuds/Scorpius_Wears_Short_Skirts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack really shouldn't have trusted a Craigslist ad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry. Jack and Mark please forgive me for my sins.
> 
> Also I can't believe I have to say this but FANFICTION IS FANFICTION. Ships are FANTASY. Ships are meant to be fun. DO NOT USE SHIPS AS AN EXCUSE TO BE DISRESPECTFUL. Jack and Mark are grown men who can make their own decisions. Signe makes Jack happy. Amy makes Mark happy. Be nice to them and be nice to each other dammit.

Jack had found the ad online mostly by chance. He’d been thinking of getting a dog for some time, but things kept popping up to prevent him from visiting the local shelter. The main reason being that he didn’t go far from his home very often.

_Large adult Dog free to good home. Black Lab. Friendly. Already crate-trained. Very affectionate. Will pay for travel costs, we just can’t keep him anymore as new housing doesn’t allow for Pets._

 

He had given the possibility of a dog quite a bit of thought. He knew he probably wouldn’t have time to train a puppy from scratch, and though he loved his parents’ dogs, he couldn’t stand the tiny yappy sort. He had videos to record after all, and a yapper would just make too much necessary noise for him to have to edit out or compete with. With all of this in mind, the ad was perfect.

 

He checked the contact information below the ad, emailed the dog owners, a couple by the names of Matt and Ryan and was informed to expect the dog within three days. It was international shipping and Jack was worried about possible travel trauma to the dog, but Ryan assured him that the dog had been on many trips before and had never been bothered but that they had arranged the fastest shipping possible.

 

Jack spent the next couple of days preparing his house; Buying a large crate, food bowls, toys, a strong woven leash, and a massive plush doggy bed. He had spent nearly an hour in the pet food aisle trying to decide what sort of food would be best, realizing he had never asked Matt or Ryan about the dog’s diet. They’d never exchanged numbers but he sent an email asking about it with his phone. The response he got spawned more questions than it answered.

_He’ll eat whatever you give him, but he’s allergic to alcohol._

 

To be on the safe side he picked out a smaller bag of dry food for sensitive stomachs just to be on the safe side until he could figure out what the dog really needed.

 

When the crate finally arrived, closed up entirely aside from small holes to breathe through, he dragged it inside. It was much heavier than he thought it would be, and he wondered if his answer about food had been because the dog was fat on table scraps. He closed his front door behind the travel crate before unlatching the crate. He didn’t want to alarm the dog after what was probably a hectic few days, so he left it up to the animal to decide when he wanted to push the crate open and come out.

 

About two hours later the dog hadn’t even tried coming out, and Jack was beginning to worry. What if the dog was hurt or in shock from the trip? _What if the dog was dead?_ He could see a small lock of shiny black hair but nothing else and that hadn’t moved, which just meant the dog hadn’t moved. Unable to wait any more, he knelt down in front of the crate. 

 

“You alright in there, Poochie?” He asked quietly, opening the crate to at least check that the animal was breathing, and then he stared...

 

And he stared...

 

And stared a bit more.

 

That was not a dog. “Holy fock!” The irishman exclaimed, jumping backward to land on his ass.

 

The man in the crate flinched at the sudden yell, scrubbing his hands over his scruffy, stubbly face as he woke up. He squinted against the light, having gotten used to the dark of the crate. His body was tan, a rarity in ireland and all too obvious as he was stark naked aside from a pair of hot pink boxer briefs and a leather strip around his neck emblazoned with silver letters to spell out _M A R K_. His eyes were the color of molten chocolate, having the soft distinctive shape that defined him as at least somewhat asian, and far too calm for the situation in Jack’s opinion.

 

“Y-Yer not a dog…” Jack croaked out, and Mark began to laugh.

 

He really shouldn’t have trusted a Craigslist ad.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Panic Attacks and Pizza.

This was illegal, wasn’t it? Some form of human trafficking or prostitution or something and Jack was going to have the Irish Guard take him away for it any minute now and he’d just wanted to get a dog to keep him company and help out with his stress but now there was a half naked man in his living room and he _couldn’t fucking **breathe.**_

 

The laughter stopped shortly after it started once the man, Mark if the collar was to be trusted, realised something was very wrong. He left the crate to move nearer the irishman, who seemed very near to hyper ventilating. He reached out, only for Jack to flinch away, so he folded his hands in his lap and spoke.

 

“Hey, you need to slow down.” Mark stated calmly, his voice lowered into a soothing tone. “You’re okay, just breathe with me.”

 

Jack really wasn’t okay, but something about the voice and the novelty of an american accent made him want to listen. Despite himself, he began to calm enough that he could speak.

 

“Yer not a drugged up sex slave are ye?” He finally asks once his lungs start working and his head stops reeling.

 

Mark had to bite back the urge to snort. “No, I’m not a drugged up sex slave. I don’t even smoke.”

 

“Are you a hooker?”

 

“No. You didn’t pay for me did’ya?”

 

Jack shook his head. “The ad said you were free. ‘Course it also said you were a labrador.”

 

Mark smiled, bringing his hand up to shake his fingers through his rich, black hair before absently picking at his collar. “Well, you can’t deny a resemblance. Sorry, I guess there was a misunderstanding?”

 

Jack sighed, picking himself up off the floor to seat himself on the couch and putting his head in his hands. Mark was apparently content to sit on the floor. An awkward silence passed between them before Mark spoke up again. 

 

“Should… Um… Do you want me to leave?” He asked, fidgeting.

 

“No. You probably don’t have anywhere to go. Whole new country. You can stay.” Jack’s voice is tired, but then suddenly his head shoots up. “Oh god, you were in a crate fer three days!”

 

He springs off of the couch, speed walking to the kitchen and leaving Mark alone for a few minutes. The half-asian takes notice of a shelf full of video games under a moderately sized television. He took out a few cases to look at them before putting them back. He liked video games, so it was nice to know he would be staying with a fellow gamer.

 

Jack returned with a large glass of water and handed it to Mark, who took a sip. He seemed to realise how thirsty he was a few seconds late as he brought the cup back up to his mouth to take long overflowing gulps. Jack took the water away quickly.

 

“Not that fast, yer gonna throw up!” 

 

Mark gulped a few times, shaking his head a bit. “I had a water bottle but it ran out yesterday.”

 

Jack frowned and hesitantly peered into the crate, fearing the worst, but it was spotless inside aside from the empty water bottle and a fuzzy pink throw blanket. It would just bother him if he didn't ask. 

 

“How’d ye go the the bathroom?” He questioned, causing Mark to blush and duck his head. “You did _not_ hold it for three days.”

 

“It was only two, but a handler on the plane let me out.” He sighed, taking the cup of water back to sip at it. “They were only a little less surprised than you were but it’s a discreet company.”

 

“They saw you were a person and put you back in the crate?” Jack’s large brows shoot up to his hairline before furrowing in disgust, obviously still assuming some sort of trafficking at work.

 

“No! God no. I went back in on my own accord. This wasn’t a forced thing.” Mark assures, holding his hands up in a defensive manner, then gestures to himself, specifically his collar. “I agreed to this whole thing.”

 

“Why?” Jack ran his hand through his hair, then pinched the bridge of his nose. “Is this an elaborate prank or-?”

 

“No. At least it wasn’t supposed to be? Can I see the ad?” Mark clarified, and Jack fished his phone out of his pocket to pull up where he had saved it.

 

Mark took the phone gingerly, reading it over before sighing. “Goddammit, Ryan!” He huffed. “Can I make a call on this?”

 

“Go ahead.”

 

Mark nodded his thanks, dialing a number from memory and waiting. Jack could hear the faint ring before a click and a voice once someone picked up. Jack could only hear Mark’s part of the conversation, of course. 

 

“Ryan, hey it’s Mark. What the hell, man?... He thought he was getting an actual dog… Capitalizing ‘Dog’ doesn’t make that clear to people outside the lifestyle… Stop laughing you asshole! Go get Matt.”

 

Matt’s voice at least seemed more apologetic than Ryan’s horse-laugh. After a few more minutes of conversation Mark hung up and handed the phone back. Again, Mark offered to leave and again, Jack said he could stay. 

 

“Yer probably hungry, let me order a pizza and get you somethin’ ta wear.” Jack stood up to go to his room, but was stopped halfway there. 

 

“Could I use your shower?” Mark asked, sounding a bit nervous as if he felt like he was intruding. 

 

“‘Course. It’s through here.” Jack called back, leading Mark to the bathroom and then retreating to his room.

 

Mark was about his height, but had more meat to him. He wasn’t fat at all, just had more muscle mass to him whereas Jack was thinner. He struggled to find anything that might fit the bigger man before settling on his red sweatpants and one of his stretchy tank tops he usually only used as underclothing. Whatever it took to avoid Mark being nearly naked again because after he calmed down from the shock of finding out his new dog was a man he had realized that the man who was not at all a dog was far too attractive to stay in that state of undress.

 

He quickly opened the bathroom door, set the clothes on the toilet seat lid, and darted back out to order pizza, belatedly realizing he hadn’t asked what toppings Mark liked. Oh well, everyone liked pepperoni. Unless Mark was a vegetarian. Then again Ryan had said through email that Mark would eat whatever he was given. He gave it another thought, and just ordered pepperoni like he was going to anyway. 

 

He decided to spend the wait time while mark was in the shower taking the blanket from the crate and putting it back outside, shoving it to the side of the road for somebody to pick it up and take it away. He put the blanket on the couch, noticing a red flannel shirt had been folded into it, and went to the kitchen, picking up the dog toys he had scattered earlier for a real dog to play with. He tossed the toys into the wire crate he’d had prepared.

 

He could probably still get a real dog later once everything with Mark was sorted out, but the idea had lost its charm for the moment. He would keep the toys, crate, and bowls anyway, just in case he needed them later.

 

He resumed his seat on the couch and powered on his television, the PlayStation already on and ready to go. He decided to play a bit of Grand Theft Auto V to get out some of his frustration at the situation, and had calmed considerably by the time Mark had vacated the shower. Jack glanced at him for a moment, and ended up distracted enough to drive his player right off a cliff.

 

Mark’s hair was wet, the tank top doing nothing to hide his shape. The sweatpants were, of course, a bit tighter than they had any right to be, and his collar was in his hand instead of around his neck. Of course he wouldn’t bathe in it, that would just warp the leather. He set his collar down on an end table, then looked around before spotting his blanket. He pulled the flannel out of the blanket and put it on over the tank top and thank god for that because Jack felt like he was going to die if Mark didn’t cover up more. He sat on the floor again, pulling the blanket down with him to curl up in as he watched Jack try and fail several times to steal a jet.

 

“You are allowed on the furniture, ya know.” Jack voiced, after he figured out Mark kept sitting on the floor because some people didn’t let their dogs jump up onto couches or beds.

 

Mark just gave him an odd look before pulling himself up onto a cushion. “Habit,” Was his only explanation. 

 

Jack continued trying to get to the jet, but just continued dying. “GO FOCK YERSELF!” He shouted at the little militants on screen.

 

Mark flinched at the sudden volume, then reached over for the controller. “Can I?”

 

“Knock yerself out.” Jack passed the controller just as a knock sounded at the door. He got up to answer, glad to see it was the pizza. He paid for it, closed the door with his foot, and set the box on the end table next to the collar. A glance at the screen told him Mark had the jet he’d been trying to get for half an hour. He went ahead and pulled out a slice of pizza for himself, not bothering with plates, noticing after a few seconds that Mark was staring but not eating. It made Jack a bit uncomfortable until he realized that the other man was waiting for permission. To eat. 

 

“Fer fock’s sake dig in and stop lookin’ at me like that.” It was soon very apparent that though he’d had water, Mark hadn’t eaten throughout his entire trip as he managed to cram half a slice of pizza into one bite. 

 

Jack wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or disgusted. Given the situation he settled on concerned. He waited for Mark to finish what he wanted, which turned out to be half of the entire pizza, then settled sideways on the couch to face Mark fully.

 

“I think we ought to talk about this.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Explanations and the morning after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is going to be longer than I originally planned.

Jack had so many questions, especially since Mark had openly stated that he had agreed to being shipped to a total stranger under the guise of being a dog. Actually Dog, with a capital D if he remembered the phone call correctly. Surely it had to be a fetish thing.

 

“It’s kind of a fetish thing?” Mark explained when asked, grabbing his collar off the end table to fidget with it.

 

“I fockin’ knew it.” Jack huffed, putting his head in his hands again. “Getting starved and shipped to somebody you’ve never met. That’s yer idea of a good time, then?”

 

“Actually I meant the Dog thing. Getting sent here was more for a change and Matt ran a background check on you to make sure you weren’t a serial killer or anything.”

 

Jack groaned in exasperation. “So what’s the Dog thing? Explain that to me.”

 

The next half hour or so had Jack feeling a bit enlightened. Mark explained it as best he could, though he had a slight tendency to ramble off about something every now and then. From what Jack gathered, Mark felt he had less to be stressed about if he gave up control to someone else and he liked the sort of affection he got as a Dog. He also made sure to put it in the open that being a Dog was not a sexual thing, just a lifestyle choice. Apparently he had been a full-time Dog for three years so far.

 

This was the weirdest day Jack had ever lived through, but he was nothing if not open-minded. Throughout the whole conversation he had also noticed Mark continue to fiddle with his collar, but made no move to put it back on. His hair was dry by now so there was nothing stopping him from wearing it again. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to put it back on, Jack noticed he seemed very attached to the strip of leather. 

 

“I can unbuckle it just fine, but buckling it back is hard when I can’t see what I’m doing.” Mark admitted with a sigh when he noticed the irishman staring. “...Could you?” He then asked, hesitantly holding it out to Jack who took it carefully.

 

It was simple; about an inch or more in width, black, the leather incredibly smooth and the shiny silver lettering very secure. There was a D-ring for a leash sewn in near the buckle-loop. The whole thing looked very well cared for and Jack was struck with the realization of how much this simple piece of leather meant to the man on the couch next to him. It was probably a privilege just to be permitted to touch it. In a way, he was holding Mark’s life in his hands. 

 

He made sure the lettering was the right way up before wrapping the collar around Mark’s neck, though he got a bit nervous when Mark turned his chin up, baring his throat so Jack could get the buckle done. His fingertips brushed against the half-asian’s skin, which was surprisingly warm. His breath caught in his throat unexpectedly, and he hurried to finish the process. Leather through square ring, peg in hole, leather back through the other side and through the loop. He slipped two fingers between the closed collar and Mark’s throat to make sure it wasn’t on too tight, realizing only after he’d done it that he could have just asked. 

 

Mark didn’t seem to mind. 

 

There was something about putting a collar on another person, Jack learned, that felt like such an important and profound thing. He felt the need to speak, but it took him a little while to find the words before he could even try.

 

“Look, I don’t understand all of this. I know ye just told me but I’ve got to figure it out myself just so it feels real. I’m still half-convinced this is a fever dream or somethin’. I’m not goin’ to toss you out. I’m jus’ tired and you’re probably jet-lagged as all hell. I have to admit I’m curious though, so if yer still real when I wake up I’m not averse to givin’ this thing a shot.” Jack stated, getting up to put the remainder of the Pizza away, but still talking. “You’ll have to teach me or somethin’, I don’t know what I’m doin’ anyway.”

 

When he turned away from the refrigerator he noticed Mark had followed him into the kitchen, which is where Jack had put all the dog supplies. Mark obviously noticed them, crouching to examine the toys, giggling when he found the plastic duck that squawked. Jack found it oddly adorable, but was made painfully aware of the fact that the duck was loud.

 

“You better not be playin’ with that while I’m tryin’ to sleep.” Jack warned, though he was mostly teasing. “I’ll take it away if you wake me up with it.”

 

“No, of course not. I’ll be good.” Mark promised, and retrieved his blanket before coming back into the kitchen to curl up on the dog bed.

 

Jack would have protested this, but he really didn’t have the energy to tell a grown man he didn’t have to sleep on a dog bed inside a wire crate. At least he had proper cushioning now, something the shipping crate had sorely lacked.

 

 

Mark was indeed real the next morning when Jack woke up to make coffee and was startled to find a man sleeping in the crate on the floor in his kitchen. His mind caught up to him quickly enough as he remembered the strange events of yesterday. Right. His new dog was a person. Fantastic.

 

Jack started up the coffee maker, a loud piece of machinery that managed to wake Mark up almost instantly. He didn’t bother exiting the wire crate, apparently content to watch the other man go through his morning routine from where he was. Either that or he was the type of person who had to convince himself that he was awake before he could move.

 

Jack pulled a box of cereal down from the top of the fridge, catching a glimpse of the dog bowls still on the counter. The thought of filling them with cereal and coffee for Mark crossed his mind as he prepared his own breakfast. Would Mark like that? Would he be insulted? He said he’d been a full time Dog for years, and Jack found himself more than curious. Before he could talk himself out of it he prepared the dog bowls, setting them on the floor next to the small table against the wall. The kitchen table was really only big enough for one person anyway.

 

Mark smiled, pushing himself up to crawl out of the crate. Jack expected him to stand and walk, but found himself oddly pleased when the half-asian stayed on all fours. Seeing him this way it was no wonder he looked so strong, his arms especially. He was obviously used to carrying himself with his arms as well as his legs, appearing almost graceful. Jack had to force himself to look away, taking his own food to the table to eat and pulling out his phone so he had something to look at aside from the man on the floor.

 

“I usually drink my coffee black so there’s no creamer in the house, sorry. Wasn’t expectin’... well, you.” Jack apologized, checking his twitter.

 

“Don’t worry about it.” Mark replied, voice still gravelly from sleep, and Jack looked down at him against his better judgement.

 

It was a bad idea. He could easily see the creased line between Mark’s shoulder blades as most of his weight was focused in his shoulders. The flannel had come off so every muscle was easily visible through the tank top. Jack made the mental note to get something to raise the food bowls a little, and returned his attention to his twitter. 

 

A lot of people had tagged him asking about the new dog. Right, he had made a vlog earlier in the week to say he was getting a dog. Now he had to explain why there was no dog, since he was certainly not introducing Mark as such. He wouldn’t lie to his followers, he respected them more than that. That didn’t mean they had to know about this new development in his life.

 

He knew hiding it forever would be impossible of course, and he didn’t plan to hide _all_ of it. He could probably pass Mark off as a new roommate since that was sort of what he was now. He would just have to make sure the dog supplies stayed off-camera and get Mark some proper clothes instead of what Jack had given him and the one flannel shirt.

 

“You’re thinking way too hard up there.” Mark voiced, startling Jack out of his head. “You okay, man?”

 

Mark was still on the floor, but his breakfast was finished and he had moved nearer to Jack. A look of concern was etched on his face and the irishman was a bit touched that a near-stranger cared that much already. 

 

“I’m just trying to figure out what to do about my followers. They’re probably expecting videos or pictures of a real dog by now.” Jack sighs, and on a whim lowers his hand to touch Mark’s hair which was just as soft and fluffy as it looked. “I can’t exactly tell them you’re my dog.”

 

Mark leaned into the touch, glad of the small affection. “Followers?” He asked, trying to get more information without prying.

 

“I’m a YouTuber. I upload videos of myself playin’ games. Sometimes just talkin’ or answering comments.” Jack explains, absently carding his fingers through the other man’s hair before he could stop himself. 

 

“That sounds pretty fun. Is that like your job?” Mark asked, resting his head against Jack’s knee.

 

“It _is_ my job. I love it so much, it’s just going to hard to figure out how to explain why I don’t have a dog.” Jack sighed, aware of the fact he was now petting a _person_.

 

He wasn’t as bothered by that fact as he probably should have been.

 

“I like games.” Mark admits, and Jack remembers how he had gotten the jet Jack had tried and failed to get several times.

 

“Might have you collab with me. Yer pretty good at GTA.” Jack muses aloud, noticing that Mark had cuddled up to his leg by now and despite the lack of personal space he found it a bit endearing.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shopping and a new sense of self awareness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ARE YE PROUD OF ME MA?!

Jack eventually sent out a tweet that the dog adoption hadn’t gone as planned, which was the truth. He’d had a few videos queued already to prepare for the time he would have spent getting a dog used to his house and routine which was lucky, he supposed, because now he had time to take Mark clothes shopping. He learned a few things about Mark during that trip.

 

Mark really liked pink, soft things, and shirts that were just a fraction too tight for him. As a joke, Jack lead him through the pet section and wound up having to stop to let Mark look at everything. A squeaky rubber cheeseburger ended up in the cart, though neither of them mentioned it. After a bit more browsing there were a few more unplanned things in the cart like a bag of beef jerky, a large bottle of coffee creamer, and the fuzziest pillow Jack had ever seen in his life. It was the in the shape of a mustache. He also bought a pair of knee pads since Mark was used to carpet and the hard flooring was a bit painful.

 

Jack could feel the cashier judging him, though he may have been projecting his own awkwardness onto her. Mark took it upon himself to carry all the bags, which Jack was grateful for since they were walking home. Jack would have been happy to take half or more but the american refused to let him and he saw no point to arguing. Mark even helped put everything away which turned out to be a nice change from doing so alone, even if he was the only reason Jack now had things to put away in the first place.

 

The clothes and knee pads went into a plastic bin where Jack had previously put the dog bowls, the mustache pillow went toward the back of the crate, the coffee creamer of course went into the refrigerator. The bag of jerky was left on the counter, untouched by Mark since he had tossed it into the cart. Jack had expected him to start eating it immediately until he realised there was probably a plan for it.

 

Well, treating Mark as he would a dog had been the correct thing to do during breakfast. If he used the same line of thinking it became obvious that the dried meat was probably the equivalent of dog treats. He picked up the bag, looking over at Mark inquisitively. 

 

“This for tricks or somethin’?” He asked bluntly, figuring being direct was the only way he was going to get used to the oddity his life had suddenly become.

 

“I’ve been trained already but it’s fun.” Mark shrugs, sitting on the floor next to his crate as he was strapping on his knee pads. “It gives you a chance to make adjustments too, if you feel like it.”

 

“Adjustments to _what?_ ” Jack would forever deny the fact his voice had cracked for a second.

 

Mark laughed at his confusion. It was a low, bubbly sort of laugh and Jack discovered he was more glad to hear it than he was embarrassed.

 

“Adjustments to posturing.” Mark finally answered between bursts of laughter, though he was trying to quiet himself. “To make sure I’m doing what you want the right way. Nothing crazy.”

 

_Nothing crazy. Sure._

 

Still, curiosity overrode whatever insecurity he had. It was only Mark and himself here, after all and the american on the floor had absolutely no room to judge seeing as he was the Dog in this situation. Jack wondered what that made him. Master or Owner sounded off to him. He wouldn’t even call himself that with a real dog. _Caretaker?_ Maybe.

 

He toyed with the bag of jerky in his hand thoughtfully. Did he really want to try this? He opened the bag, twirling a piece of preserved meat between his fingers. Stormy blue locked with the warm, inviting brown. Jack took a steady breath.

 

“Sit.” Jack tried, his voice shy.

 

Mark smiled and obliged instantly, no hesitation or protest. He sat with his legs folded under him, rear supported on his heels. Aside from his toes his feet were perpendicular to the floor. His knees were all the way down, palms laid flat between them and fingers together. His back was straight as a rod, causing a slight lean forward. It looked elegant, if not also a bit uncomfortable. It was just a man sitting on the floor, but something about that clicked for Jack and to him it was a beautiful display.

 

Jack wracked his, admittedly flustered, brain for other commands for a moment. This was so weird and so awkward but he wasn’t bothered by the situation. What actually bothered him was the fact he wasn't bothered at all. He had certainly learned something new about himself and he wasn’t quite sure what to do about it aside from continue what was happening. 

 

“Down.”

 

Again Mark seemed happy to comply as his weight shifted to his shoulders so he could kick his legs out behind him, putting him into a push-up position before he lowered himself to lay on his stomach. He folded his arms under his chin and crossed his ankles, looking up at Jack through his eyelashes, wordlessly seeking approval.

 

He could certainly see the resemblance to a dog in those eyes. Jack may still not have fully understood but he did know now why this sort of lifestyle was appealing. He wondered how he must have looked to Mark at this time. He’d have to remember to ask later, as he didn’t want to break the moment.

 

“Roll over.” He sounded more confident now, at least.

 

Mark pushed himself over, pausing while he was on his back with his arms tucked to his chest before the motioned continued. He returned to his previous ‘down’ position, though he had moved a bit to the left. The beauty here was in the fluidity of the motion. Jack had never seen a graceful dog so he had expected more of a flop, but instead he was left with the impression that this man who had fallen into his life was living art.

 

One more, just to finish up here. A simple one.

 

“Up.” Jack ordered, actually managing to make it sound like a command. 

 

Mark did push himself up to his hands and knees, back straight but otherwise relaxed. This was obviously the ‘at ease’ pose. His shirt had ridden up somewhat from his roll, a sliver of skin at his lower back showing.

 

“Good boy.” The praise fell from Jack’s lips almost casually. 

 

It had felt like the right thing to say, and it was. Mark positively _beamed_ up at him, wiggling a bit. It took Jack a second before he realized that it was Mark’s version of wagging the tail he didn’t have. Well, he’d gone this far. There was no point in staying nervous about it. He crouched, letting Mark take the ‘treat’ from his hand with his mouth. He then brought his hands to Mark’s hair, ruffling through it until it was the most ridiculous mess of floof in the world. After a minute more of petting and repeated praises, Mark was halfway into Jack’s lap.

 

Again, Jack was far less bothered than he felt he should have been. 

 

“Alright, get off o’ me.” Jack said with a chuckle, shoving Mark gently away and standing. “That was… kinda fun.” He admitted.

 

The Dog rolled a short distance away, stretching himself out without getting up. “Yeah, that's the point. You sure you’re okay with this?”

 

“I’m fine with it so far.” Jack waved him off, stepping into the kitchen to start making lunch for the both of them before remembering there were still three slices of pizza in the refrigerator. “I’ll put a stop to anything that rubs me the wrong way.”

 

“Just making sure. You’re the one in charge here so it’s all up to what you’re comfortable with.” Was Mark’s response, and Jack frowned.

 

“You’re comfort’s important too. This is new to me. I don’t know how far I want to go with it yet and I certainly don’t know how far you want to go.” The irishman poured himself a drink and took a sip from it before continuing. “How far _is_ too far for you?”

 

Mark shrugged before responding with the strangest sentence ever. “I’d rather you not fuck the Dog.”

 

Jack had to spit his drink back into the glass to avoid drowning himself. He wasn’t quite fast enough. He set the cup down on the counter and turned to lean over the sink, laughing and coughing and sputtering from his surprise. Mark rose from the floor to walk over, patting Jack on the back to try and help the fluid work itself out of his lungs. When he could breathe again he hid his face in his hands.

 

“You’re a very pretty puppy, but I can’t say I was planning on that.”

 

Mark, rather than being offended, just began to preen. As he did that, Jack was struck with a thought. 

 

“You didn’t talk for that whole… training thing.” He points out.

 

Mark shakes his head. “Dogs don’t talk, so I don’t talk when it’s playtime and… well… you were playing along. There’s kind of…” He brought his hands up to make a vague gesture that Jack didn’t understand at all. “There’s a small line between me-me and Dog-me I guess. I like the affection and treatment either way, but when somebody like you is there to play with me that way I like to do my part perfectly. It makes me feel pretty great, especially when my Owner is proud of me.”

 

“Don’t call me that.” Jack says suddenly, tone a bit sharper than he meant for it to be. “Owner, Master, Sir. I don’t… I don’t like it.”

 

Mark’s brow raised but he nodded, understanding. “Okay, I get that. Sorry.”

 

“S’alright. I just don’t like the thought of owning a person, Dog or otherwise. I’ll take care of you if ye want, but I’d rather ye just call me Jack or Sean. I’d prefer Jack.”

 

“Got it.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Never forget to feed your Dog.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...  
> I wasn't expecting so many positive comments and I'm floored with how nice they are. Like just wow I love every single one of your comments and I think I've smiled over these comments than I have in a year. Every time a comment pops up I read it and then I have to fanboy over it for like an hour and I just don't know what to say other than just thank you. Thank you so much, all of you! I'm glad you seem to like what I'm doing so far.

The next few days passed with Jack getting Mark a cellphone, laptop, and helping him with the endless paperwork it took to get the american an Irish Citizenship which was still being processed. Matt and Ryan had thankfully mailed Mark’s ID and birth certificate which was helpful. They also spent more time getting to know each other and getting used to their arrangement while Jack still had a few videos queued. 

 

A routine had become apparent; Jack would wake up to make breakfast, which would wake Mark. They would eat breakfast much in the same fashion they had the first time, then Jack would take a shower and they would get dressed in separate rooms. If they had a reason to leave the house, they would. If not they would play video games on the couch or watch each other play. They ate whenever they were hungry, usually by Jack’s schedule, either in the kitchen where Jack would eat at the table and Mark from his bowl, or together on the couch. If at any point during the day Mark put his knee pads on, Jack knew he wanted what they had deemed “Dog Time.” Mark took his shower at the end of the day, let Jack put his collar back on when his hair had dried, and went to sleep in his crate.

 

Of course, the queued video’s would only last so long. Jack needed to get more recording done. Because of this the time he and Mark spent together ended up considerably shortened. Mark said he didn’t mind. Of course he wouldn’t. He was the most understanding man Jack had ever met in his life. Jack felt a bit bad about it and after some time it was evident by the comments that his followers had noticed something off about him. For this reason, he decided to play a horror game to take the edge off of everything. He hadn’t played anything scary in a while anyway.

 

In hindsight he shouldn’t have played a game with jump-scares at one in the morning. A face popped up. Jack screamed, kicking himself away from his computer. Instantly a crash could be heard from the kitchen, followed by hurried stomping. Mark barged through the door brandishing a fork like it was a sword. He was in full view of the camera and Jack was glad the other man was wearing a shirt as he sometimes slept without. Mark looked around the room, and then to Jack. He wore a panicked look on his face. 

 

“Are you okay? What happened?” The american asked, and Jack began to laugh.

 

“I’m fine!” Jack shouted between laughs, raising a hand to point at the screen. “I was playing a game! Wha-What were to planning on doing with a fork?”

 

“Well…” Mark blushed when he realized the irishman was in no danger and awkwardly twiddled the utensil between his hands. “It’s got… It’s sharp. I could… stab?”

 

Jack looked at him incredulously. “You were goin’ to stab someone with a fork?”

 

“In the butt.” Mark clarified, figuring the situation was already silly and that he may as well add to it.

 

“Right.” Jack said slowly, shaking his head. “Mark?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Go lay down.” It was technically a command, but subtle enough that Jack knew no one would notice.

 

Mark gave a single, awkward nod. “Okay.”

 

The american left the room, shutting the door behind him quietly. Jack turned back to the camera. He thought briefly about whether to edit out Mark’s attempt at rescue or not, but decided to keep it. He had to tell his followers he had a roommate at some point. Now was as good a time as any. 

 

“Sorry about the crazed buttstabber everybody. That was my new roommate. He’s not used to hearin’ me record yet. Apparently I need to soundproof my office better. ANYWAY That does it for this video.” He went through his outro, making it louder than ever since he knew Mark was awake now.

 

Mark’s response to ‘IN THE NEXT VIDEOOOO’ was to answer it with a howl from the kitchen. Jack snickered, leaving himself a note to edit that part out. He started scanning through his comments, preparing for another Reading Your Comments so he could record that in the morning. He’d have to start early tomorrow if he wanted to keep his upload schedule consistent.

 

The next morning he went straight to recording the Comments video, skipping coffee for the time being. He was still his loud, silly self without the caffeine as he mostly drank coffee purely just because he liked it and not the effects.

 

Halfway through one of his rambly answers he heard the squeaking. It was quiet enough, thankfully. His microphone probably hadn’t picked it up, so he ignored the squeaking and continued on with his replies. After a few minutes the squeaking died down, Mark having gotten bored with the cheeseburger for now by the sound of it. 

 

Outside of the office fell silent. For about three seconds. Then Jack was reminded of the ridiculously loud plastic duck.

 

**SQUAAAAAAAAAWK**

 

_“MARK!”_ Jack shouted, glad that his microphone was built to withstand his volume or he’d have ruined it a long time ago.

 

“I’m hungry.” The american whined from the other side of the door.

 

Jack walked over to open the door so they could speak face to face. “Eat without me.”

 

Mark looked, fittingly enough, like a kicked puppy. “You need to eat too…” He murmured. 

 

Jack instantly felt a little bad. Mark was just looking out for him, albeit in strange ways. 

 

“Alright. Let me finish this up and I’ll be right out.” Of course, Jack still had a quota of videos to edit and put out. He couldn’t shirk that. He had too many people looking up to him. “After breakfast do you want to hang out in here with me? I’ve got work to do.”

 

Mark brightened visibly. “Sure! Of course!” He turned to leave but Jack halted him.

 

“Not so fast. Give me the duck.”

 

Mark pouted but handed the toy over without a fight. Jack wondered why he had even gotten it in the first place, given the volume of the damned thing. Oh well. His Dog had lost duck privileges for the rest of the day. Probably even the week. He looked over to his camera and sighed at the red light. He had quite a bit to edit out now.

 

After he finished the recording he had a late breakfast with Mark as he said he would, then let Mark join him in the office while he got to work editing. The Dog sat on the floor leaning up against the irishman’s left leg. This worked out just fine since Jack could do most of his current work one-handed. The other found its place comfortably playing with Mark’s hair much to their mutual delight. This position was familiar to the both of them by now, comforting even. Oddly enough Jack found it helped him to focus.

 

When Jack came across Mark’s earlier disturbance while checking over the videos, he chuckled despite his annoyance at the time. He cut that bit away, but instead of deleting as he normally would for outtakes and made a new folder to transfer it to. He simply labeled the new folder ‘mark’ and minimized it to keep working.

 

“You smile like a little kid.” Mark told him absently, a smile of his own on his face. “It’s nice. A lot of people our age have forgotten how to do that.”

 

Mark fell asleep a few seconds after, heavy against Jack’s leg, leaving the irishman alone with absolutely no clue what to think of that other than the fact he was touched. His hand stilled in Mark’s hair as he became even more aware of the american’s presence than he had been; The strong arm loosely curled around his calf, the heartbeat through a rib cage, the soft warm breath on his knee as Mark exhaled. Every part of Mark seemed to be made of peace and Jack had no idea until this moment how much he’d been needing that in his hectic life. It wasn’t even that Mark was calm all the time, as he definitely had his strange and hyper moments. If was the fact that he put Jack at ease, usually without even trying to. 

 

There was no pressure from Mark. Just trust. Jack had to wonder what he’d ever done to deserve this happy accident. 

 

He let Mark sleep for a while, but had to wake him up for lunch which they ate together while watching an old episode of Futurama. The rest of the day passed normally after that.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who's up for some walkies?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't show up at YouTuber's houses. That's their personal space. That's their safe space. Don't be That Person.

The explosions of comments about Mark after Jack uploaded the horror game had been expected, though he hadn’t counted on so many asking him to make a vlog with the american. Apparently everyone wanted to meet Mark as soon as possible. Others asked why he had a roommate again. One or two had noticed the collar and asked about that, and Jack decided to pretend he hadn’t seen those. _Let them think it’s a fashion decision._

 

Eventually he brought Mark in to record a game of Soccer Physics. Mark was a bit camera shy at first but turned out to be really fun to play with once he relaxed. Their banter came naturally between all the screaming going on. Jack was actually mildly impressed with how high and shrill Mark’s usually low voice could get when he was trying to win and failing miserably. Neither of them were sure when it started but they ended up jokingly flirting after some time. They thought nothing of it.

 

The comments thought everything of it. Suddenly there were shippers galore. Jack had been shipped with other gamers before, but that had always been a small thing. Now Jack could hardly scroll his tumblr tag for five seconds without seeing a gif of he and Mark looking at each other and _is that really how he looked at Mark?_ Oh well, Jack was fine with shippers. It wasn’t like he didn’t have ships of his own, after all. He knew it was all done in fun. 

 

Mark became a frequent visitor on his channel after that. He even helped Mark start his own channel, with the user Markiplier, since he enjoyed gaming and found it special to be an entertainer. Mark honestly wanted nothing more than to help people and to make them smile, which only proved to Jack further that his roommate and Pet was a truly beautiful person.

They usually took turns using the office to record, which was a bit tedious sometimes but they eventually got used to it and formed a proper system. They took turns where one would record while the other editted. It took a lot of time out of their day, cutting into Dog Time more often than not. It made the playtime more special though, as they both needed it more. As a small fix, Jack ended up buying a second dog bed to put into the office out of camera range so Mark could spend time with him comfortably while he recorded. 

 

Both channels grew in popularity at an alarming rate, probably because of the ship and collabing with Jack had given Mark a good headstart. Of course with more popularity, the greater the possibility of being recognised in public. It had happened before of course, but it had been rare. Now, nearly any time they went out somewhere they were stopped to take a picture with someone at least once before getting home again. At one point a girl had actually cried about seeing them which made Mark tear up a little.

 

After a few months someone had followed them home, which was not at all okay. Nothing seriously bad came of it, but it was apparent that they would need to move somewhere else before the address was leaked. Privacy was important and the two had the highest value for theirs considering the unconventional way they lived their daily lives. Like most times he had something important to say, Jack made a serious vlog about it. Mark did the same.

 

It turned out to be a good thing as they could get a bigger place further away from the city. The new place had room for them both to have their own separate offices so they could record and edit at the same time, which allowed for more time with each other or to themselves if they needed it. They each had their own unique set-up instead of both of them using Jack’s. There was even a privacy fence around the back yard.

 

The privacy fence became an important detail when Jack unboxed the leash he still had amidst unpacking. He ran it through his hands thoughtfully, blue eyes picking over every detail of it.

 

“Hey Mark?” He called, folding the leash in his hand and standing to find his Dog. 

 

“Yeah?” Came the response, sound telling the irishman where Mark was.

 

Jack made a beeline for Mark’s room/office, lingering in the doorway and smiling as he found the half-asian couched over to fix his crate how he liked it. Jack had suggested he get a bed before, but Mark prefered what he was used to. When Mark turned to face Jack he immediately took notice of the leash. 

 

“Wanna go fer a walk?” Jack asked, and had to stop himself from laughing when Mark nearly tripped over himself in his haste to get his knee pads on.

 

They couldn’t leave the yard for the walk of course, but Jack had thought it a good idea and judging from his reaction, Mark was in agreement. Less than a minute later the knee pads were on, Mark wordless and on fours. 

 

“Sit.” Jack ordered, to which Mark easily obeyed. 

 

Jack let his fingers brush along the edge of the collar, turning it to get to the D-ring so he could clip the leash onto it. He ruffled Mark’s hair, smiling warmly. 

 

“There we go, good boy!” He stood, tugging at the leash lightly, just enough for Mark to feel it. “Come on, let’s go outside.” 

 

Dog Time had been a nearly daily occurrence for months by now, so they were used to most of it. They knew what boundaries they couldn’t cross with each other. They even had a safeword (Their safeword was actually “safeword” because they were both snarky dorks.) despite the fact they never did anything anywhere near heavy enough to warrant one. Taking a walk like this, however, was new. It made Jack almost as nervous as the very first playtime, though he was considerably more giddy to have Mark leashed and crawling at his side as he walked through the house to the back door.

 

Once Jack opened the door Mark practically leapt forward into the grass, rolling onto his back and wiggling for a second before he was back up and pulling forward. Jack took a paranoid look around before giving the leash another soft tug to get the Dog’s attention. 

 

“You calm down right now. Heel.” Jack said sternly.

 

Mark returned to his side for a while as they began to walk around, then started to pull away again with a whine. Jack had no idea where he was trying to go, but he pulled the leash up as much as he could without feeling like he would hurt the man on the ground.

 

“No. There’s nothing’ over that way fer you.” Jack told him, but Mark just continued to pull. “You’re gonna have a time-out if you can’t behave, now heel you silly thing.”

 

At that, Mark ducked his head and stopped pulling the leash. He whined apologetically and Jack took pity on him, leading him the way he’d been trying to go. Evidently at the lower vantage point Mark had been able to see a mound hiding in the grass that Jack hadn’t. Jack knelt to get a better look, surprised to see a rabbit nest. Good thing Mark had found it before either of them tried mowing the lawn or that could have been a disaster. They left the nest alone aside from looking at it of course and Jack lead Mark inside, unclipping the leash and petting him. 

 

“They’re so tiny!” Mark exclaimed once he was out of his headspace enough to let himself talk again. “I don’t know what it is but tiny things are so cute, they drive me crazy and I just want to show everyone.”

 

Jack laughed at his enthusiasm. “Is that what yer deal was about Tiny Box Tim?” He asked, referencing to the small crate Mark had found in a custom Amnesia playthrough he’d done a week ago.

 

“Don’t you dare make fun of my little biscuit.” Mark warned, though his ridiculous tone drop made it clear he was joking.

 

Jack snorted. “Dog biscuit.” He muttered.

 

They both collapsed into giggles, leaning against each other for a while before they separated to get the rest of their unpacking done. Later that night they set up a Game Grumps playlist on Mark’s laptop, setting it on the coffee table in front of the couch since the television had yet to be set up. The first night in the new house they fell asleep together there, Jack sitting back against the arm of the couch with his hand in the other’s hair, Mark sprawled across his lap.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you just get homesick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daniel Kyre isn't mentioned by name but he is referenced. Did I mention I'm usually an angst writer?  
>  **IF** anybody makes art for this my tumblr is skunktaildax. Tag me with the art, or tag it labrador au, and I'll post links in notes at the bottom. (Also if you make art for this holy shit why? This is all vent-work, it isn't even that good. The comments already kill me in the best way. Art would put me in the hospital or something damn.)

Mark had begun collaborating with friends from Cincinnati who had started their own YouTube gaming channels. It was nice to reconnect with them again. He missed them. He missed Matt and Ryan too. He especially missed his family. He’d kept contact with them all, of course but it wasn’t the same thing as seeing them in person. He didn’t want to leave Jack of course, as they had a great thing going. He was just a little homesick, was all.

 

“I’d like to go back to America.” 

 

Jack’s eyebrows shot up into his hair as he put the sandwich he had been eating down. He looked hurt and Mark realized he should have worded his thoughts better. Before he could correct himself, the irishman began to speak. 

 

“I figured you would eventually. You don’t need my permission. I’m not goin’ te keep ye from-”

 

“No! No no no no no.” Mark cut him off, waving his hands. “That’s not what I meant. I wouldn’t be staying. I just miss everyone and it’s been long enough.”

 

Jack visibly relaxed, openly relieved. “Long enough fer what?”

 

Mark fidgeted, picking at his collar. “I lost a friend. That’s why I needed a change. I needed to go somewhere else. That’s... why I ended up with you. I don’t really want to talk about it if that’s okay?”

 

Jack nodded. “I understand.” 

 

Mark began to tear up, “I’m sorry,” He said, voice cracking. 

 

“Oh no. Shit, don’t cry. C’mere. Don’t apologize.” Jack soothed, and brought Mark into his arms. “I’m here. Yer alright.”

 

Mark clung to him, shaking as he gave up on trying to stop himself from breaking down, sobbing into Jack's shirt. He had been blocking the emotions from the loss since making the decision to go somewhere else and now it was all rushing to the front of his mind to mingle with the separation from the friends and family he still had. He needed to feel it now. He’d needed to cry for a while, so now he did. All the while Jack held him, rubbing wide circles into his back, heart shattering as he didn’t know how else to help. 

 

All this time that Mark had been with Jack, the latter had been thanking whatever had happened to drop the other into his life. He felt a wave of guilt for that now that he knew the real reason. Mark had been running from grief and Jack had the nerve to be _grateful._ Sure, he hadn’t known that, but it still made him feel awful. 

 

“I’m so sorry,” He said softly, rocking Mark softly as the sobs lessened into hiccups. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

 

Dinner was forgotten in favor of cheering Mark up to the best of Jack’s ability. He ushered the american into an early shower, using that time to run a set of pajamas and the pink blanket through the dryer to warm them for when he finished up. They both went to sleep early in Jack’s bed as the heavy cry had worn Mark out, and he was glad to bundle up in the warmth when the irishman brought him his things. The bed wasn’t quite big enough for both of them without cuddling, but that was fine. Mark took the side against the wall as he was unused to sleeping in open space.

 

The collar was left off, as Mark had no energy to wait for his hair to dry before he was already passed out. He looked strangely naked without it, Jack mused, still awake long after his companion had drifted off. Mark had said he’d only wanted to visit America and Jack believed him, but would he change his mind when he got there? The rest of the Fischbachs were there, surely he would want to stay with his family once he saw them again. He wouldn’t stop him from doing anything he wanted to do, including leaving, but Jack didn’t want to live alone again. He couldn’t imagine being home without Mark’s company.

 

Oh.

 

_Oh…_

 

_...Oh shit._

 

Jack didn’t sleep well that night, but it didn’t effect him much as he often pulled all-nighters editing. The next morning he helped Mark make arrangements. The american would be flying to Cincinnati to visit his friends, staying at his mother’s house for a week. Afterward he would go to LA to spend a few days with Matt and Ryan and board a plane back to Ireland. Altogether he would be gone for two weeks total. The collar stayed off all day, lying on Jack’s dresser in his room.

 

And then Mark was gone.

 

Jack went back to his old routine of eat, record, edit, upload, sleep, and start over. He avoided Mark’s room but there were many things he couldn’t ignore. Every time he opened the refrigerator the bottle of creamer he had no use for stared back at him. Mark’s collar had moved from the dresser to under Jack’s pillow. He would brush his fingers over the lettering, hoping the fact Mark left it meant he was definitely coming back. Of course, if he didn’t Jack would mail it to him if requested.

 

His followers noticed something was wrong, as they always did. His mother could hear it in his voice when she phoned to check up on him. He left the comments to theorize, but told his mother everything.

 

Well, of course not _everything_. He left the Dog out of the conversation which left some holes in his explanation but thankfully she didn’t pry too much. She told him that if Mark left all of his stuff at Jack’s that he had every intention of coming back. Given the fact Mark had arrived with only a blanket and one shirt Jack wasn’t convinced, but he thanked his mother for the reassuring anyway.

 

He did take comfort in the fact that Mark had taken to vlogging with his phone while he was away and Jack got to see his companion’s friends and family through a screen. Bob and Wade seemed funny. Matt and Ryan were downright strange, though he’d expected that. Mark’s brother Thomas seemed to have all the seriousness that Mark often lacked.

 

Mark texted or skyped Jack when he wasn’t busy, which helped take the bite out of the irishman’s loneliness but never fully fixed it. During one skype session Matt interrupted by wrapping toilet paper around Mark’s neck, claiming that he shouldn’t be naked on the internet which got a shocked laugh out of Mark and a cackle out of Jack. Ryan’s silly horse-laugh could be heard somewhere in the background.

 

“Did you get him housebroken yet?” Ryan asked, coming into frame.

 

Mark sent him a death glare. “Shut the fuck up.”

 

“We could never get him to piss outside.” Matt added, to which the half-asian hid his face and shook his head.

 

“Noooo…” Mark muttered, and Jack could see the blush spreading on what Jack could see of his neck past the toilet paper.

 

It was adorable, so Jack just had to join in on the teasing. “No, I hadn’t even thought o’ that. You two’re kinky bastards.” 

 

Mark just continued to hide behind his hands as the three others continued on, eventually graduating from trying to see how hard Mark could blush to trading dog puns. After Matt and Ryan left them to talk alone and they calmed down from the stupidity, Mark spoke seriously.

 

“How are you doing?” It was a standard question but Mark looked concerned.

 

“I miss you.” Jack admits, scratching at the back of his neck. “It’s been too quiet without you goin’ to town on that damned duck.”

 

They share a chuckle at that, and Mark starts breaking himself free of the toilet paper. “I miss you too. I’ll be back in a few days though, I promise. Then you’ll be back to trying to hide the duck again.”

 

Jack just had to throw one more joke at Mark to kill the tension for good. “You know, we have a fence. As long as you don’t piss too close to the bunnies-”

 

“Oh my god, Jack, no.” Mark sputtered, breaking into full laughter. “Goodbye Jack.”

 

“Bye Mark.”

 

They closed the call, Jack feeling a bit better.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We now return to our usual standard of fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The duck is one of these, in case any of you weren't already 100% sure.  
> https://vine.co/v/etBBrldUUEw

A few days and Mark returned just as he had promised and Jack took him out for sushi as soon as retrieving them from the airport, even though he had never even had sushi. He knew Mark liked sushi though, and to him that’s all that mattered. It was the first time Jack had seen Mark eat at an actual table and he was struck with how odd it looked to him. He also learned Mark had no clue how to use chopsticks.

 

“You’re Korean!” Jack pointed out. “This should be easy for you.”

 

“Only half of me, you racist.” Mark snorted, giving up and eating with his hands.

 

Some of the other patrons flashed the two dirty looks. Whether it was for their conversation or their lack of table manners they weren’t sure. Jack didn’t care. He was just happy that Mark was where he could reach him again.

 

They took home what they didn’t eat, mildly disappointed they were given a box and not a bag. Jack felt it was a lost opportunity for a pun. Mark caught on and laughed anyway. Upon arriving home, the american enveloped Jack in an unexpected but not at all unwelcome hug which they both held onto for at least a solid minute before they could let go of each other. They broke apart, Jack putting away the leftovers as Mark wandered off. 

 

**_SQUAAAAAAAWK_** came the noise from somewhere down the hall.

 

Jack broke into a fit of giggles. Of course Mark would go straight for the duck. Jack stopped what he was doing, leaning against the counter and smiling to himself as he listened to the movement in the house, relieved to have it again. The still and the quiet had been torture for him. He hated not being able to hear Mark walking around, or crawling if the mood suited him. He had even missed the noisy toys even though they got on his nerves sometimes. Hell, he’d missed hearing the other man _breathe._

 

“Hey Jack?” Mark called, and the irishman hurried to finish up in the kitchen before making his way toward Mark’s room.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I can’t find my collar…” He admitted, and Jack shook his head fondly. 

 

“You left it in my room, ya doof.” He informed, then remembered it was still under his pillow when Mark moved to get up. “Stay, I’ll get it for ye.”

 

Jack retrieved it quickly, taking a moment to wipe the lettering against his shirt to rub away the faint fingerprints he’d put there over the past two weeks. He returned to Mark, who hadn’t moved, and knelt to his level. He wrapped the collar around his companion’s neck as he had done so many times now, the action as familiar as walking. He hesitated before buckling it, however, locking eyes with Mark’s deep brown.

 

“Do you still want this?” Jack asked softly. 

 

"Of course." Mark let out a fond sigh, bringing a hand up to cover one of Jack’s. “I’m always going to want this.”

 

Jack finished up the buckle, not even needing to look to know what his hands were doing. He checked the fit out of force of habit, unnecessary as he knew by now exactly what the collar felt like when it was on correctly. He ruffled Mark’s hair, reveling in the normalcy he felt in doing so.

 

“There’s my good boy.”

 

Mark made a quick vlog to let his followers know that he’d arrived back in Ireland safely, and Jack’s heart soared at the use of the word ‘home.’ Mark considered the house with Jack his home and that was such a profound thing. Afterward Mark introduced Jack to Bob and Wade through Skype and they all played Prop Hunt for a while. Absolute hilarity ensued.

 

Once recording was finished up, around one in the morning, Mark retired to his crate as he was too tired to bother with a shower. Jack went to bed as well, though he was unable to sleep. After an hour he was on his feet again, deciding to go on a twitter spree. The observant majority had noticed the absence of Mark’s collar while he was in America, which he was glad to see his companion had already passed it off as having left it home on accident. Jack’s eyes lingered on the word ‘home’. A simple word shouldn’t have made him as happy as it did.

 

Jack left his room for the kitchen, digging the sushi out of the refrigerator since he was awake and bored. He ate it right out of the styrofoam box, standing and leaning his hips back against the counter. After eating about half he put the box back, leaving the rest for Mark. He started to go back to his room but paused in front of Mark’s door, which was slightly ajar. He stood there a moment, listening to the steady breathing.

 

 _Don’t be creepy._ He told himself, and continued on his way.

 

Jack ended up awake the entire night but that was fine with him. Sleep was for the weak after all. His window faced the backyard so he spent his night looking out at the sky until it lightened. This is how he noticed a bit of mottled brown movement in the yard. When he realized what it was he rushed to wake his roommate. 

 

“Mark. Wake up, you gotta see this.” He called, reaching into the crate to shake the bigger man’s shoulder.

 

“Wussgoin’on?” Mark slurred, squinting up at Jack as he tried to shake off his drowsiness. 

 

“It’s a surprise, just come on. Quickly.” Jack stated, rushing back to his room. 

 

Mark followed, staggering a bit as his legs weren’t aware he was supposed to be awake now. He joined Jack at the window, confused until Jack pointed out the reason for the excitement.

 

“The mother’s here!” Jack called, and Mark followed his finger to see the little ball of fur. 

 

The rabbit was unaware of the two men watching her, shuffling around her nest a while before settling to nurse her kits. Her ears swiveled around on her head like periscopes, listening for any minuscule threat. Every now and then she would startle, sprinting away from her brood, rearing up to look and listen better, just to hop right back to her babies. 

 

“That’s so cool.” Mark uttered in awe, suddenly fully awake and nearly giddy as he watched the bunnies. 

 

Jack smiled widely, though he was no longer watching the little furry family in the yard. Instead he was focused on the wonder in his companion’s eyes, the flash of teeth between parted lips that was partially a grin but mostly astonishment. He found himself caught in a reverent admiration for the man next to him, so much so it was a wonder he didn’t explode from it. _Stop staring, he’ll notice._ He forced himself to return his attention to the rabbits, noticing the mother had begun grooming the little ones. 

 

They watched until the mother left again and Jack left to get breakfast started, his heart pounding bruises inside his chest. He decided to distract himself by actually cooking instead of just fixing cereal or leftovers. Mark watched him scramble eggs for a while and Jack ignored him, putting laser focus into his task. 

 

Mark left him to power on television now that it was all hooked up. Jack could hear the opening song from Back to the Future Part I from the kitchen and he rolled his eyes. His Dog was such a nerd. With the cooking done, Jack turned off the stove top and brought them both a plate of eggs so they could eat together on the couch, making a second trip to retrieve coffee as he knew exactly how Mark liked his by now.

 

Well, his mother always had said, ‘Love is wanting to spend every possible second with someone and knowing how they take their coffee.’ Now he knew there was some truth to that after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wonderful Art!  
> http://thisnekoisalynx.tumblr.com/post/148127925413/puppy-markimoo-or-would-that-be-puppiplier


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quick sick fic and a slick Mrs. Mcloughlin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know the fruit and vegetable juice that says you only taste the fruit and not the vegetables but you only taste the damn vegetables and everything about the juice is made of lies? That's what kind of juice that is.
> 
> Links to mentioned Eddie Izzard clips:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rMMHUzm22oE  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bq03xebtbeU

“Ma, I think I’m in love.” Jack stated seriously into the receiver. 

 

Mark had gone out to get cold medicine as Jack had managed to get sick, so Jack used the time alone to call his mother, who was now cackling on the other end of the line.

 

 _”Well no shit, Sean.”_ His mother said, amused. _“I’m guessin’ ye haven’t told ‘im yet or ye wouldn’t be callin’ me like this.”_

 

“I never told you it was a him.” Jack backpedaled, his voice cracking slightly as he prepared to get defensive which tickled enough to evolve into a few seconds of coughing.

 

 _“Jackaboy, I ain’t stupid and yer not subtle. I knew when ye lost yer mind over yer roommate goin’ back te America.”_ Something on the line rustled, probably the woman switching hands. _”I’ve seen ‘im on yer channel. Ye’ve got a cute one.”_

 

Jack pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course his mother would catch on before he could tell her. He ran his fingers over the fuzzy texture of Mark’s pink blanket to ground himself, having ‘borrowed’ it when his roommate left him alone.

 

“I don’t know what to do. He’s said more than once that he isn’t gay in his videos.” He told her, letting out a heavy sigh. 

 

 _“That don’t mean ‘e’s straight. Ye think ‘e’d be that open with strangers on the internet?”_ His mother countered. _”His shirts’re probably tighter than his arse, an’ ‘e’s got a pretty one. Grab it an’ see what ‘e does. I did the same te yer father.”_

 

Jack covered his face and resisted the urge to scream. He knew the woman was just trying to help but she was only managing to frustrate him more. He finished up the call with her before she could try guilting him into bringing Mark to meet her and his many siblings. Upon hanging up he noticed a text from his roommate.

 

 **Markimoo:**  
_want anything?_

 

There was a picture attached of a bakery display. There were cakes for days and all of them gorgeous.

 

**Jackaroony:**  
_BRING ME CAKE OR BRING ME DEATH_

 

The reply was nearly instant.

 

**Markimoo:**  
_did u just quote eddie lizard?_  
*izzard  
typo 

 

**Jackaroony:**  
_i have no clue who that is_

 

**Markimoo:**  
_look up cake or death on youtube_

 

Jack dutifully pulled it up on his phone, making the search and clicking the first video. He was surprised to see it was of an englishman in an asian-styled minidress doing stand-up comedy about Hitler of all things. He found himself in giggles by the time it got to the part about cake. He was still stiff all over and ached from his cold but the humor helped his mood.

 

Marked walked into the living room with two paper grocery bags to see Jack in a mess of laughter and coughing, still going through Eddie Izzard clips. The one he was on now featured the comedian making up a ridiculous scene for Star Wars.

 

Mark smiled at him, setting down the bags and pulling out the medicine, a massive bottle of a red sort of juice that Jack couldn’t read from his position, and the most beautiful chocolate cake he had ever seen. Mark poured a glass of juice and brought the medicine over, setting the medicine down before leaning over the coffee table to hand the glass to Jack.

 

“Here, have a glass of whatever.”

 

Jack took a sip, frowned at it, then swallowed to speak. “This tastes like carrots and ass.”

 

Mark shrugged, palms up in a cheerful manner. “It’s healthy.”

 

At least the juice turned out to be a better flavor than the medicine, a small blessing as Mark seemed to have every intention of making Jack drink the entire thing before he would be allowed any cake.

 

“You need fluids.” Mark reasoned.

 

“You need my foot in yer ass.” Jack snarked back, though he was glad to see that his roommate cared enough to put up with his sour mood.

 

Mark sat himself on the couch next to Jack, starting up Futurama on netflix. Jack sat up a moment only to flop right back down on the american’s lap. He’d started to sweat now, so he kicked the blanket off onto the floor. Mark huffed but didn’t try to pick it up, trapped under the irishman. Sure, Mark could shove him off if he wanted but he didn’t really mind the slight role reversal and Jack deserved proper care while he was under the weather.

 

Half an hour Jack was still sweating onto Mark and through his hair, completely unconscious. He ran his fingers through the greying hair, moving it from where it had stuck to the irishman’s forehead. Jack would just hurt when he woke up if he continued to sleep where he was, so Mark carefully fitted his arms under Jack’s back and the crook of his legs. It was tricky to stand up that way but he managed. Jack shifted, half waking and nearly causing Mark to drop him before he curled an arm around his shoulders and nuzzled into the bigger man’s neck, nosing along the collar there, and going right back to sleep.

 

He carried Jack to his room, having to argue with the doorknob for a solid five minutes before he could get the door to open. He lowered Jack onto the bed and moved to stand, but the other had an iron grip on his shirt. He began unbuttoning it, ready to leave his lucky flannel with Jack so he could sleep alone in peace. A quiet voice stopped him, hoarse from a mix of sleep and coughing.

 

“Stay with me? ...Please?”

 

Mark couldn’t deny a request like that and got onto the bed as Jack curled up on his side. He didn’t think twice about curling himself around the irishman, chest to back with an arm shoved up under a pillow and the other curled around Jack’s stomach. He considered the fact Jack could overheat from the position as he already felt like an oddly wet furnace, but he just whimpered any time Mark tried pulling away to give him air. After a moment they relaxed into each other despite the mild discomforts and Jack went back to sleep fully. Mark sighed deeply, pressing a light kiss to the back of Jack’s hair. 

 

When Jack woke up in his room with Mark’s heartbeat thumping against his spine, he was very confused. He stayed still for a little while, trying to figure out if he was actually awake or not. When he came to the conclusion that he wasn’t dreaming he propped himself up on his elbow, twisting around to see Mark was awake as well. He looked around his room, still a bit confused since last thing he remembered he was on the couch and he would have remembered walking.

 

“Dude! Did you carry me?” He asked, openly impressed.

 

He could tell by looking that Mark was strong but he hadn’t realized how strong he actually was until now.

 

“Uh… Yeah. I couldn’t leave you on the couch but I didn’t want to wake you up either.” Mark removed the arm around Jack’s belly to nervously mess with his hair.

 

The motion made it apparent that Mark’s shirt was half open and Jack momentarily forgot how to breathe. The moment of flustered panic was overridden as he noticed something he hadn’t before. There was a vertical line of discoloured skin running from Mark’s navel to about the base of his sternum; A surgical scar. Mark caught him looking and pulled his shirt closed to hide it.

 

“S-sorry. Didn’t mean te stare…” Jack apologize, internally scolding himself.

 

“It’s fine. I know it’s new to you.” Mark shrugged. “Go ahead and ask. I know you want to.”

 

Jack frowned, concerned. He wanted to know what happened of course, but he’d never make Mark talk about it if he didn’t want to just in case it brought up something bad. Instead he would only ask what applied to the present. He pushed himself to sit, legs crisscrossed while Mark just rolled onto his back, letting his shirt fall open again.

 

“Does it hurt?” He asked.

 

Mark hadn’t expected that question but recovered quickly. “No. It does itch sometimes, but that’s it.” Then he continued, figuring that Jack would want to know sooner or later. “I had a tumor on my kidney. Not cancerous thankfully, but it had to come out.”

 

“Oh.” Jack replied, at a loss for words.

 

“I know it isn’t pretty.”

 

“No, no. It’s fine. Just surprised me.” Jack assures. “I didn’t notice it when you first got here. Yer a gorgeous man with or without it.”

 

“You think I’m gorgeous?” Mark asked, breaking into soft laughter.

 

Jack knew then that his brain was still fuzzy, either from the cold or the medicine fighting it. He’d meant for the last bit to stay _inside_ his head. Mark, at least seemed flattered without reading too much into it. The tension left him and Jack was glad he hadn’t made him uncomfortable.

 

They both took turns in the shower since Jack’s sweat had dried on them both. Thankfully his fever had broken sometime during his nap, though he did vomit shortly after dinner. Mark sat with him and rubbed his back through it. Jack knew it was just from standard nausea but he blamed the ‘carrot ass juice’ so the other would stop insisting he drink it.

 

The two slept in Jack’s bed for the night and in the morning Jack felt well enough that he wanted the cake for breakfast. They watched the rabbits since they woke early enough, the babies having started to hop around a bit by now.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's tickle time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. I broke my two chapter a day streak. It's also slightly shorter... Shame on me.

There had been ten full minutes of comfortable silence between the two men on the couch. They had finished recording for the day a few hours prior and had just ended a bit of Dog Time, though Jack had absently continued to pet his companion while they listened to a movie neither of them were actually watching. After some time he began absently counting the bumps of vertebrae through Mark’s shirt with his fingers but stopped to reach over Mark’s back for his cup on the coffee table. He raised it to take a sip. Mark chose then to speak.

 

“There is a severe lack of Lucky Charms in this country.”

 

Jack snorted into his drink. “Jaesus Mark…” He set the drink down. “There’s too much sugar in it. I think that’s why it got banned.”

 

“I’ve seen you eat half a cake by yourself.” Mark points out. “That can’t be it.”

 

“Okay, I’ve heard Kinder eggs are banned in America fer bein’ dangerous.” Jack countered.

 

Mark’s brow furrows, seeing his point, and he picks at a hole in the fabric at Jack’s knee. Jack flinched a bit and Mark rolled a bit in his lap so he could experimentally flutter his fingers over the irishman’s side, who let out a startled giggle and swatted his hand away.

 

“Holy shit, you’re ticklish!” Mark practically squealed.

 

“No, I’m NOT!” He protested, shoving the other man off of his lap and onto the floor.

 

Mark was back up instantly and Jack tried to run, only to be pulled back. He lost his balance and fell, thankfully on the couch as he hadn’t gotten far. He put his best effort into struggling but was reminded of just how strong his companion was when his arms were pinned to the arm of the couch above his head, kept secure there by only one of the american’s hands. Jack tried using his legs as leverage to free himself, only for Mark to sit on his hips, one leg folded between Jack and the back of the couch, the other foot planted on the floor. Jack felt his face grow hot at the position, but was quickly distracted as Mark’s free hand began to sprinkle butterfly light touches over his ribs. 

 

“Mark get o-hahaHAHA STOPPIT!!” Jack laughed, his accent thickening.

 

“MERK?!” Mark snorted but continued, finding that one spot on Jack’s right side that sent him screeching.

 

Jack lost his ability for speech, only able to laugh. He tried bucking the other man off of him and immediately regretted the action. His blood flowed south and he instantly began to panic. He knew he’d have to tell his roommate eventually but he was _not_ finding out this way. 

 

Mark noticed the shift of demeanor right away and let Jack go, hopping off and leaving the couch entirely to give Jack space, who curled up and hid his flushed face.

 

“Shit, I’m sorry. Are you okay? What did I do?” Mark rambled, worry clear on his face. “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to-”

 

“I’m fine.” Jack said sharply, picking himself up off the couch and sprinting from the living room to his own.

 

Mark was left alone, dumbfounded and worried. He knew Jack wasn’t fine, that was obvious. The only conclusion he could come up with is that he had scared the other man, maybe even hurt him. He hadn’t meant to, of course. He hated to think it but maybe he’d triggered something? He scrubbed his hands over his face and reached over for the remote to turn the television off, as the formerly pleasant background noise had just become an irritation.

 

Mark sat on the floor with his back to the couch. He would wait until Jack calmed down and came back, however long it took. They needed to talk about what had happened, as Mark didn’t want to repeat whatever mistake he had evidently made. But Jack didn’t leave his room again that night. 

 

The next morning, Jack found Mark asleep on the floor. He woke him up, they said their good morning’s, and Jack went to his office to start the day’s recordings. He felt regret for his episode yesterday and wanted to apologize, but he wasn’t sure how. He knew he was just delaying a confrontation at this point. It wasn’t like he could just play it off as nothing. Despite how many times Mark called himself stupid, Jack knew him to be a very intelligent man.

 

He was surprised when Mark let himself into Jack’s office during a round of Happy Wheels. He set a plate of cookies and a cup of coffee on the desk just outside of ‘the flailing zone’, then turned to leave. 

 

“Mark?” Jack called, turning in his chair and taking his headphones off.

 

Mark stopped in the doorway. “Yeah?” His voice was tired.

 

Jack scolded himself. He knew Mark cared about everything and everyone with his whole heart and Jack had _run_ from him. It had been all Jack’s doing but of course Mark was the type to blame himself, and he had such high empathy. Jack wanted to tell the other that he hadn’t done anything wrong. Hell, he wanted to tell Mark everything but the words died in his throat. Meanwhile, Mark waited patiently, looking hopeful as well as anxious.

 

“I’m sorry.” Jack finally croaked, “Fer yesterday. I just… I don’t know.”

 

Mark looked down, studying the grain of the wood on the floor. “Don’t apologize. I made you uncomfortable, that’s on me. You even told me to stop and I didn’t listen until-”

 

“Ev’ryone says ‘stop’ when they’re bein’ tickled!” Jack counters. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable.”

 

“Bullshit.” Mark mutters, then speaks up. “Jack you looked _scared_. I never want to see you look like that again. I don’t want you to _ever_ be afraid of me. Or anyone else for that matter.”

 

“I’m not! I wasn’t afraid o’ _you_ , I was afraid o’ _me._ ” Jack admits hurriedly. 

 

A silence fell over both of them, Mark trying to figure out what Jack meant, and Jack trying to figure out how to fix this without giving his heart away. _Not this way. I need more time._

 

“Can we talk about this later?” Jack asked, a classic dodge but he needed a chance to properly think.

 

Mark nodded, hoping Jack actually meant later and not never. He left the room, closing the door quietly behind him and heading to his own office. Maybe he could get his videos uploaded on time today. He’d managed to do it every once in awhile, after all. 

 

Jack turned back to his computer, voicing a note to edit that whole bit out. He reached for a cookie, eating it slowly as his stress had gotten to his stomach and he hadn’t eaten breakfast. Then he took a swig of the coffee, black with just the slightest hint of sugar. A perfect cup. He set it down and went back to shouting at the game before he came to a hard stop. He glared over at the cup of coffee, sitting innocently near the cookies. He took another drink just to make sure that small bit of sweetness hadn’t come from eating a cookie beforehand. It hadn’t.

 

A perfect cup of coffee, which Mark had prepared for him.

 

_Ma, I hope yer sayin’s’re right._ He thought. _If not, I’m about to do somethin’ stupid._


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teary confessions and Chair can totally be a name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not going to write actual smut of real people but I'll probably get close and I apologize.

Jack waited until after Mark had taken his nightly shower. He wasn’t entirely sure why but he felt the need for the collar to be off for the conversation they needed to have. He was all nerves now, sitting on the couch with his right leg bouncing at an alarmingly fast tempo. Mark had seated himself on the other end of the couch, still giving Jack plenty of physical space. His collar was in his hands, fidgeting with it as he almost always did when he didn’t know what to do with his himself. The tension was thick between them.

 

Jack was the first to speak. “You’ve been here awhile.”

 

Mark nodded, obviously unsure of where this was going. He didn’t speak, so Jack continued.

 

“Surprised the shite outta me when ye got here.” He chuckles, thinking back. “You were a good surprise though… Yer still a good surprise every day.” He looked down at his hands so he wouldn’t have to see the brown eyes start to glisten and damn Mark for being such an easy cryer. “I’ve learned a lot about you and about myself and I love…” He trailed off. He meant it but he couldn’t say it yet. “I love havin’ ye here with me.”

 

Mark was doing his best to hold tears back but Jack could hear them in his voice. “Are you okay? You aren’t dying, are you? This is starting to feel like a goodbye or something.”

 

“No,” Jack assured. “I’m not dyin’ and it’s not a goodbye unless you want ta go.”

 

“Why would I want to go?” Mark questioned. 

 

“Because what I have to say to ye might throw the arrangement we’ve had goin’ all outta whack.” Jack sighs. “Oh god, I just don’t want ye to hate me fer this…”

 

Mark scooted closer, settling a hand firmly on Jack’s shoulder. Their eyes locked, an ocean storm of blue to the warm inviting brown that at the moment was still sparkling with unshed tears.

 

“I can’t hate you, Sean. As far as it comes to you, that just isn’t in me.” Mark told him seriously, the use of Jack’s real name only emphasizing the words.

 

Jack opened his mouth and found himself speechless. He felt his own tears form. There was such a high chance that he could ruin so much with so little. He was past the point of hiding though. He’d already said enough that there would be no stepping back from it now. He’d already crossed that line. A warm drip escaped down his cheek and Mark immediately brought him into a hug after thumbing the tear away. Jack clung to him, unsure if he would ever have the chance again. In case he didn’t he wanted to remember how it felt.

 

“Just talk to me.” Mark said quietly. “Please don’t hold it in when it hurts you this much. I need you to be okay.”

 

Mark was opening crying purely out of care for Jack now, and Jack’s tears were a mix of empathy and his own doubt. 

 

“I’m sorry. I just…” He muttered, fighting his voice to work. He’d have to say it now or not ever. “I love you. I don’t want to mess us up, but I seriously love you.”

 

He felt Mark stiffen and pull back. _I’ve royally fucked up so badly._ He covered his face in his hands, leg shaking even faster than it had before. He expected to be shoved away any second now, but was surprised when Mark’s hands pulled his own away.

 

“Jack look at me.”

 

So Jack did. Mark was smiling at him, shaking his head fondly. A second later and Mark’s lips were on his in a chaste kiss, soft in comparison to Jack’s somewhat chapped. It was a quick thing, not heated in the slightest, but it held meaning and Jack was in awe of it.

 

“I love you too, you idiot.” Mark said.

 

“Thank fock.” Was Jack’s elegant reply, and Mark couldn’t hold back a laugh.

 

Jack felt such a wave of relief that he couldn’t help but laugh too. They continued to crack up for a while until their stomachs hurt, holding onto each other as if they’d die if they let go. When they calmed down, aside from the giggly aftershocks, Jack realized Mark’s hair had dried. He took the collar from the other’s hands, wrapping it around the american’s neck as he usually, but he paused before fixing the buckle. 

 

Collaring Mark had always been a bit intimate, but given the new context Jack couldn’t help but notice the bob of Mark’s adam's apple and he found himself wondering what his skin tasted like. He left the collar open, still holding both ends as he guided Mark closer and pressed his mouth to the other’s exposed throat. A faint salt of skin mixed with the fresh scent of soap and Jack was in heaven.

 

Mark drew in a startled gasp and his hands instinctively found Jack’s hips. The contrast of the warm wet of Jack’s tongue and the rough texture of his short beard was already too much at once and he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to pull the irishman flush against him or push him off so he could think. He felt a brief flash of Jack’s teeth and a whine escaped him before he could stop it, pushing Jack onto his back and climbing onto him.

 

The unbuckled collar fell to the floor and the sound of metal and leather hitting wood drew both of their attention. Mark stared down at it, apparently frozen and Jack remembered his companion’s earlier terms from when their arrangement had begun. He brought his hand up to Mark’s face, guiding him to make eye contact. 

 

“If ye need to stop we can.” He said, trying to sound as calm as he could considering their position. 

 

“I can’t be a Dog for this…” Mark said bashfully, ducking his head.

 

“I don’t _want_ the Dog.” Jack told him. “Not like this anyway.”

 

“I… I haven’t…” Mark began, trailing off.

 

Jack understood instantly. “ _Oh._ S’alright, this is up to you. We really don’t have to do anythin’, I’m just happy I can kiss ye now. Fock, I’m sorry. I got excited and lost my mind. Didn’t mean to rush-”

 

Jack lost his words as Mark experimentally ground his hips down against the other, the irishman cursing under his breath. Mark then made it clear he wanted his collar back on and Jack obliged, still underneath the half-asian. As it turned out, the collar was more for confidence than it was for Petplay, like a safety blanket, and Mark was too nervous to continue without it. Jack understood. 

 

The mood crashed and died a few minutes later when Mark got Jack unbuttoned to find a whole flock of flamingos and could not stop laughing.

 

“Why is _that_ your underwear?!”

 

“SHUT THE FOCK UP!” Jack retaliated, swatting the other man with a throw pillow.

 

After that, Mark began sleeping in Jack’s bed much more often even though it meant never being able to sleep in again since Jack had a habit of waking up at dawn. That was fine by him, as waking up so early meant he could watch the rabbits more often. 

 

They had begun following their mother around. Two of them were the same brown as their mother, but there was a smaller grey one that Mark had declared his favorite one morning. Jack asked why, expecting to be told it was because that one was smallest but Mark shook his head, carding his fingers through Jack’s hair.

 

“That one looks like you.” He explained.

 

Jack took another look at the littlest bunny and had to admit a resemblance. It had the same shade of grey in a sort of peppered pattern and its fur always stuck up at odd angles. This rabbit became known as Jackie. The other two were called Alex and Chair, since it had a habit of sitting on its siblings if they stayed still long enough. They kept to unisex names for the babies but mother was eventually named Fred.

 

“Mark, that’s a boy’s name. We can’t call her that.”

 

“Fred can be a classy lady name too!”

 

“Goddammit Mark…”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mrs. McLoughlin makes another appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry I didn't post yesterday. Was babysitting.

One morning started with the shrillest squall Jack had ever heard and the unsettling shift of the bed as Mark quickly got up to investigate. He heard Mark yelling outside a few seconds later and was out of bed to follow as fast as his feet would take him. Upon reaching the back yard he could see his companion kneeling over a wriggling lump of dark red and grey.

 

“There was a bird, fuck. I don’t know what to do. She’s gonna die.” Mark ranted, all in half a breath. “She’s bleeding so bad.”

 

“Don’t touch ‘er, just stay there.” Jack said, rushing back into his house to get his phone. 

 

He googled the number for the closest vet and ran back outside, taking a towel with him. He relayed the vet’s instructions to Mark who followed them, wrapping the little ball of fur in a towel so she couldn’t kick or scratch or hurt herself. They didn’t have a carrier but they did find an old shoe box to put her in as they made the trip to the veterinary office.

 

Thankfully, the little rabbit wasn’t lethally hurt. Her right ear was severely torn and she had gone into shock but was otherwise fine. She was kept overnight, during which time Mark was a mess of nervous energy, then sent back with the boys. Mark had tweeted about the entire thing, so little Jackie was getting well-wishes from a very large portion from the internet. After another day she was cleared to be released into the yard to rejoin her family.

 

“The yard’s too small for four rabbits. One was no problem but four’s drawin’ too much attention from things that want to eat them.” Jack mused aloud. “They need a way to get out and go off to do their own thing.”

 

“We could just open the fence?” Mark offered.

 

“They wouldn’t want to get that close to us and we can’t just leave it open too long.” Jack pointed out.

 

“Well then…” Mark sighed, wracking his brain until he had an idea he knew was either brilliant or stupid. “I could make a bunny-door?”

 

Since Mark had to learn how to install a cat-flap from scratch along with the fact their recording schedule was busy and near-daily rain, the bunny-door took over a week. Jack was no help, preferring to stand and watch with a mug of coffee in his hand. It was a small one person job anyway, so Mark didn’t mind much aside from the fact Jack was hovering over him as he was on all fours, hard at work cutting a hole into the base of the fence.

 

“Why are you just watching me? Go do something.” Mark asked once.

 

“I like the view.” Jack answered with a shrug and a sip of his coffee before heading back inside.

 

Mark blushed and didn’t protest to Jack watching him anymore after that. 

 

They continued to watch the rabbits every morning, Mark occasionally recording them for a while. A few weeks later they stopped seeing the rabbits. It was expected. Rabbits grow up fast after all. They would have to move on eventually. Mark was a bit saddened at the absence of the little creatures but he was glad to have seen them grow up. 

 

The day the rabbits left, Jack and Mark held a going away party of sorts throughout their social medias. Within an hour there was already several pieces of fanart depicting the family of rabbits. Mark saved every single picture. At Jack’s insistence they bought a carrot cake even though they both knew carrots are actually very bad for rabbits. Having bunnies as neighbors had prompted a lot of research while they had been there. 

 

Once all the excitement faded Jack remembered that he and Mark had barely gotten any proper Dog Time in a week. That would need to be remedied soon. For now, the both of them were just tired. 

 

“We should get videos queued up and just have a whole Dog Day.” Jack suggests as Mark crawls over him to get to his place nearest the wall, giving him an affectionate pat on the rear as he passed over.

 

Mark flops down, pulling Jack close to nuzzle into the grey hair behind his ear. “That’d be great, man.”

 

A silence fell over them for a short while, both drowsy. Then, for whatever reason, Jack had the urge to speak. 

 

“What do ye think of me when yer a Dog?” He’d thought of asking it many times, but it had a way of slipping his mind.

 

“Not much different than how I think of you right now.” Mark shifted and took a deep breath, the scent of toothpaste apparent in his exhale. “More intense I guess? You’re a wonderful person. I want you to approve of me, be proud of me. I want your attention, but I want to earn it, not just _have_ it. I want to be worthy of your attention.”

 

Jack scoffed. “You deserve a fair bit better than me.”

 

Mark swatted him lightly on the shoulder. “Don’t. You’re damn near perfect.”

 

Jack was struck speechless. He didn’t really believe we was anywhere near enough perfect to warrant his companion telling him so. He wouldn’t argue though. He felt Mark’s lips ghost over his forehead and he smiled as they let their legs tangle together.

 

“I love you.”

 

“I love you too.”

 

The next day they barely left their offices aside from bathroom breaks and Mark reminding Jack that he needed to eat. They had every intention of having the Dog Day they’d talked about but Jack had to make sure he had enough uploads that would go up on time. He prided himself on never being more than a minute late. Mark was a bit more easily distracted, sometimes being up to four hours late for his own upload schedule.

 

Dog Day started off strong with a quick training drill, Mark purposely going through his posturing lazily specifically so Jack would have to touch him to correct him. He’d left his shirt off. Jack wondered if Mark had done so just to torture him, but didn’t make him get properly get dressed. They wouldn’t be leaving the house anyway. 

 

After Jack finally got Mark to Sit correctly, during which he’d dealt with an odd mix of amusement and irritation, he allowed the Dog to play on the floor with his toys. He watched from the corner of his eye but didn’t much participate until the rough texture of a tug-rope touched his hand. Tug-of-war was rare but fun so Jack played along, careful not to actually try too hard to mind Mark’s teeth. As usual Mark won, then demanded another round in which he let go of the rope. Jack tossed it across the room, starting a game of fetch. 

 

When Mark stopped bringing the rope back, Jack went to retrieve the leash from the hook next to the back door. He whistled and Mark was at his side in seconds, wiggling and letting a whine fall from his throat. Jack knelt to clip the leash to the collar and was mildly surprised when Mark moved forward quickly to lick the tip of his nose. He supposed he should have expected something like that eventually, but it got a startled chuckle out of him. 

 

“Cute.” Jack said quietly, ruffling his companion’s hair.

 

They came back into the house about an hour later, Jack nearly having a heart attack when he saw the woman in his kitchen, her back turned. 

 

“I know it’s short notice, Sean, but I wanted te check on-” She turned before Jack could even think to put Mark out of sight.

 

The woman’s eyes widened, locked onto Mark who was trying his best to become invisible. It wasn’t working. The leash was still clasped firmly in one of Jack’s hands but his other came up to hide his face, which felt like it had surpassed red to become purple. His voice was shaky as he forced himself to speak.

 

“Hi, Ma…”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't surprise sassy women. They can get scary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The comments on last chapter regarding Mrs. McLoughlin had me cackling like a damn hyena.
> 
> Also to the person who said I should write something original um...wow thank you holy shit that's sweet. I actually do have one book in my head I want to write. Like I have the world set up, just not characters. It's easier for me to write pre-existing personalities than just making up a personality so it's been a struggle and I keep scrapping it and restarting but the idea is there. It's my idea-fetus. I'm gonna be an idea-dad. Probably not soon, but eventually.

“Sean William McLoughlin!” The woman exclaimed, hand held to her chest in surprise. “I thought with th’ toys on th’ floor ye’d have got a real dog.” She gestured sharply to Mark before putting her hands on her hips. “How long’s this been goin’ then?”

 

Jack wished he was anywhere else but in his home with his boyfriend on a leash in front of his mother of all people. He dropped the leash so at the very least Mark could escape the older woman’s wrath. He caught the hint, standing and turning to retreat to his room.

 

“Not so fast, boyo. Yer both in a load o’ shite.”

 

Jack wondered if it would be possible to fade out of existence if he believed hard enough. So far, no such luck. He felt more than he saw Mark take up space beside him. Both were studying the grain of the wood in the floor like scolded children. Neither said a word.

 

“Fer th’ love o’ th’ Lord, Sean. I told ye ter grab his arse, not tie ‘im up an’ call ‘im Spot! Answer my question.”

 

“Fair few months, since he started livin’ with me.” Jack answered, still unable to look at his mother’s face. “Relationship’s newer, though.”

 

Despite his embarrassment he knew anything would turn out better than lying to his mother would. She was a woman who could forgive nearly anything but bold lies were not among them. The woman in question turned her sights on Mark.

 

“Is Sean payin’ ye ter degrade yerself?”

 

_”Ma!”_

 

“No ma’am.” Mark answered stiffly, beginning to rock a bit as he shifted his weight from foot to foot.

 

“Ye call me ma’am again an’ you’ll be losin’ yer nose, Fido. Ye call me Aidah or nothin’.” The woman warns and Jack notices that his companion looks as though he’s about to have a heart attack.

 

“C’mon Ma, yer not _his_ mother.” Jack says quietly, trying to spare Mark from her without bringing forth her anger.

 

“No but I _am_ yers.” Aidah counter, rounding on her son. “I thought the collar was a bit dodgy when I seen him in yer videos. Is it ‘cause ye were th’ baby? I had five o’ you lot, it was hard to give all o’ ye enough attention but I tried. Is that why ye think ye need to own another person?”

 

“Ma, no.” Jack starts, wincing. “I don’t own anyone and it’s not ‘cause o’ you.”

 

“It was actually my idea…” Mark offers quietly in an attempt to help.

 

It backfired and Aidah sent him a glare that could cripple an army. Jack grit his teeth and put himself between them. This was idiotic and it certainly would not end well if his mother didn’t calm down. She was an understanding lady at heart but she had the unfortunate temper of a bear.

 

“Mark, go lay down.” Jack ordered, calming a bit once Mark had fled from the room. Aidah looked about ready to protest but she recognised the sudden fierceness in her son’s eyes. “Ma, I’m goin’ to make tea and then we’re goin’ to talk to each other like proper people.”

 

He noticed with a mild sense of sadness that Mark had fled to his own office instead of the bedroom, no doubt going to his crate. Aidah seated herself at the table, leaving Jack to stand as he had never bothered getting a bigger one since he was usually the only one to use it. The tea was made and drank in silence.

 

“I don’t want ye gettin’ hurt.” Aidah says softly after her tea is gone and she has significantly calmed.

 

“I’m not. It was a little weird when it started but it isn’t anymore and it actually keeps my nerves from gettin’ too raw.” Jack explains. “Mark is the sweetest man alive too. He brought me a whole cake last time I was sick, reminds me te eat if I’m recordin’ fer too long. We take care of each other, just in a different way’s all. I’m not doin’ anythin’ I don’t want to do an’ neither is he.”

 

Aidah sighed, turning her mug between her hands. “Alright. I’ll play nice. Was a shock’s all. I shoulda called before visitin’. Yer a grown man, after all.” She chuckles, then pulls Jack into a hug by his shirt. “Ah, yer still my baby.”

 

“Well if yer done havin’ a fit I’m goin’ te make sure Mark’s alright.” Jack states, taking the cups and putting them in the sink to be taken care of later. "Ye no doubt scared the shite out of him."

 

“Would ye like me te leave, dear?” Aidah offers.

 

Jack thought about it a moment, then shook his head. He hadn’t seen his mother in person for a while and he knew she and Mark would have to meet eventually. Best to get it done with now rather than wait too long, as long as Mark was okay with that. He hoped the first meeting with his four brothers and sisters would go over better than this one had. 

 

He knocked on the door to Mark’s office in the first five beats of ‘shave and a haircut’. He heard the following two beats as claps and took it as permission to let himself in. Mark was sitting in his crate as Jack expected, nestled into the back corner. He looked like he’d been crying. Jack crossed the room to kneel in front of the crate, smiling sympathetically at his companion.

 

“Hey.” He began softly. “You okay in here?”

 

“Your mother thinks I’m a hooker…” Mark replied, not really answering the question at all.

 

“No she doesn’t. We jus’ shocked her’s all.”

 

“How’d she even get in here? The door’s always locked.”

 

“I don’t know but she always manages. When I was little I thought she had to be a witch or somethin’.” They share a weak chuckle. “Are you okay, Mark?”

 

“I’ll be fine.”

 

“Come on out of there then.” Jack says, beckoning the other man with his arms.

 

Mark crawls out, practically falling into the embrace and clinging to the irishman. Jack carded his fingers through the other’s hair, other hand rubbing his back. He could feel Mark shaking but he calmed significantly after a few minutes of just being held.

 

“You want to meet her properly or stay out of her way until later?” Jack asked, making it clear the choice was up to Mark. “I put her right. She won’t yell at ye again.”

 

Mark took a deep breath. “Might as well do it now.”

 

Jack helped the american to his feet. Mark then went to his dresser to get a shirt on and the two returned to the kitchen, hand in hand.

 

“Ma, I’d like you to meet my boyfriend, Mark.” Jack introduced, trying to start over the right way. “Mark this is my mother.”

 

Mark blushed at the phrasing but extended his free hand nervously to shake, He was glad to see Mrs. McLoughlin was a great deal nicer now than she had been at first.

 

“Ye can call me Aidah.” The woman introduced despite the fact she’d already told Mark before.

 

Aidah then made up her mind to take both boys out for drinks. Mark couldn’t process alcohol, however, so he wound up high on caffeine from soda while the McLoughlins got a bit tipsy. Mark ended up learning a lot about Jack’s childhood from Aidah, as she was apparently a very talkative drunk. Jack turned out to be an affectionate drunk, but his loud foul mouthed nature was also amplified. 

 

Mark was the one to drive them all back to his and Jack’s house, calling an uber for the older woman before taking Jack to bed and doing his best to ignore the drunken advances. The task was moderately difficult as the smaller man seemed very keen on losing all of his clothing.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morning after. Or... day, really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is super dialogue-heavy and short and late and I'm sorry. I hit a block and ended up watching all of the Starkid musicals before I could do anything else. Also I want Sweet Tooth to be a real Batman Villian. I know he's just the Joker with candy puns but just fucking make that happen please.   
> Also I am aware that Sweet Tooth was a canon one-off in one of the cartoons but that version was bullshit. Give me Holy Musical B@man Sweet Tooth.

“Mark, I’m naked.” Jack observes aloud upon waking up.

 

“Yes. You are. Good morning.” Mark slurs, rolling over.

 

“Why am I naked?”

 

“Apparently tequila makes your clothes fall off.” Mark replied, half-singing.

 

Jack covered his face in his hands. “Shite. Did we-?”

 

“No.” Mark answered quickly. “I wouldn’t do anything with you drunk. You tried, though.”

 

“M’sorry, man.” Jack apologized, removing himself from the bed.

 

The irishman made his way to his dresser, pulling open the drawers and setting out clothing for himself. He thought of covering up, but his body ached and his head hurt a bit so he wanted to take a shower before doing anything else. No point getting dressed if he was only going to stay that way for half a minute. Behind him, he heard Mark begin to sing.

 

_“I see your heinie,_

_It’s nice and shiny._

_It makes me giggle,_

_To see it wiggle._

_If you don’t hide it-”_

 

“Mark, what the hell?”

 

_“-I’m gonna bite it.”_

 

“Shut up.”

 

Mark dissolved into a fit of low giggles as Jack rolled his eyes. The irishman gathered his towel, taking care to whack his boyfriend with it as he passed before he draped it over his shoulder and headed to the bathroom. Mark quiets himself in favor of sprawling across the bed in a wide stretch and he drifts back into sleep. 

 

Mark half-dreams, mind full of unfinished, abstract quasi-thoughts. He doesn’t remember any of it when he is woken again by a damp towel dropping onto the back of his head. He brushes the towel off of himself and looks over to see Jack already half-dressed. He has jeans on but his shirt is still off, his back to Mark, who inwardly appreciates the softer lines and pale skin. He continued to respectfully ogle until Jack had his shirt on, then pushes himself off of the bed.

 

Since Jack still looked a bit pained, probably from his persistent headache, Mark took it upon himself to start the coffee maker. He was then reminded exactly how loud the coffee maker was. He made the mental note to look for a new, quieter one next time he went out. He smiled as he heard the muffled Jacksepticeye intro. Apparently not even a hangover ( _“I’m not hungover. I’m Irish.”_ ) could stop Jack from working.

 

Mark let himself into his boyfriend’s office quietly to make a quick coffee delivery, passing unnoticed as Jack was in his VR gear. Oh a whim, he did a little dance and stuck his tongue out at the camera before he left to start getting his own recordings for the day done. He could tell when Jack switched from recording to editing when he could hear the accented voice through two soundproofed walls.

 

“MARK, YE DOOF!” 

 

“I LOVE YOU TOO!” He called back, having to leave the desk and open his door as he had no hope of being able to reach Jack’s volume without wrecking his voice.

 

Jack appeared in his own doorway. “I can’t cut that out. It was a serious part of the game.”

 

“Leave it in then. I didn’t do anything bad.” Mark defends, though is glad to see Jack looks more amused than anything.

 

“Ye ruined the tension of a perfectly good horror game, is what you did.” Jack pretends to sulk. “Oh what will the fangirls say when they see ye bringin’ me coffee like a housewife?”

 

“They’ll say I make a very good housewife.” Mark states, matter-of-factly. “They already ship us anyway. Who cares? Septiplier away!”

 

“There are septiplier haters, too.” Jack points out with a sigh, leaning against his door frame.

 

They fall silent and suddenly the unspoken part of the conversation becomes serious. Should they come out to their followers or not? How much should be known? Was it too early to even make those decisions? They shared a look and both headed to the living room. After an hour they had reached a conclusion.

 

Before anything, Mark needed to tell his family which meant a trip to Cincinnati. Jack also needed to tell his siblings, assuming his mother hadn’t already. Knowing his mother, she had either already embellished details to an obscene degree, or hadn’t said anything at all. Jack assumed the latter since none of his siblings had called demanding an explanation. They would neither confirm or deny their relationship on their channels for now, though they wouldn’t waste energy hiding it. 

 

“My brother’s going to have a booth at ComicCon so we could go do that and cover my family in that week?” Mark suggests, and Jack agrees.

 

“Well Ma knows everythin’ so that leaves Niall, Christopher, Sarah, and Rachel for my end.” Jack moves to start making dinner, pulling out a pound of chicken he’d had thawing for a few hours. “Bit worried about Niall actually. Never been that close with him to begin with…”

 

“Is he the oldest?” Mark asks, passing Jack the cutting board.

 

“Yeah. I’m the baby and there’s a twelve-year difference.” He then points to the half-bag of potatoes in the open pantry. “Could ye rinse a few o’ those off, please?”

 

Mark whistles a tone and starts washing potatoes in the sink while Jack cuts up the chicken. “Do you want these peeled or not?”

 

“No need. Th’ skin’s the best part. It gets all crunchy.”

 

“What are you making, anyway?”

 

“Ye said you like chicken and dumplin’s. I figured I’d try my hand at it.”

 

Mark fumbled with the potato he was fussing over, the tuber thudding loudly against the metal bottom of the sink. “There’s no potatoes in- You watched my comment videos?”

 

“I watch _all_ of yer videos!” Jack confirms cheerfully and Mark finds that touching in a way. 

 

He supposed he knew Jack had to have watched at least some of his videos, given they referenced each other all the time. Knowing he paid attention to the small things as well was nice. But still, potatoes in his favorite food? He just had to question that. 

 

Jack only shrugged. “Welcome to Ireland.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh hi Tom!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I threw a subtle Tom-specific reference in here. Points to the first one who catches it.  
> Also I know I slowed down on updates. That's because I actually started sleeping instead of writing. (I say as I upload this after fucking midnight.)  
> I have never even been in a plane.

Jack was afraid of heights but oddly enough was perfectly fine inside an airplane. He would get nauseous without a window seat, but that wasn’t fear. He probably should have been bothered by the fact he was inside a large can packed with people screaming through the sky, but he trusted science even when he didn’t understand it. Besides, Mark was with him for the ride.

 

Mark had actually tried to explain how a plane stayed airborne since he had nearly been an engineer before quitting college. Jack had finished college with a degree for Hotel Management, but had never had a use for it past graduating.

 

About three and a half hours into the flight Mark had fallen asleep, slumped against Jack’s shoulder. The warmth was grounding to Jack. He had put on his headphones, a metal playlist running on his iPod as he waited out the flight. There was still about eight or nine hours to go and with his companion asleep his nerves had started up.

 

What was Mark’s family even like? He’d briefly met Thomas over Skype once and he seemed quiet and reserved, shy even. He wondered if he was always like that or not, and if Mark’s mother would be similar. His own family was a rowdy bunch so he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to act. 

 

All Mark had told him was to not mention The Dog Thing to his mother as she didn’t know. Thomas didn’t know either but probably wouldn't care, Mark had said, but his mother definitely would. Apparently Mrs. Fischbach had assumed Mark’s collar was some sort of over-long phase and he had never told her differently, though he wasn’t allowed to wear it in her house. He had actually already taken off the collar to get through customs and given it to Jack for safekeeping once they had gotten past the metal detectors. It weighed heavy in the pocket of his hoodie.

 

Oh well. He wouldn’t be meeting Mrs. Fischbach for a few days. It was Thomas he’d be sharing a hotel room with for two nights. He had to impress the brother first, or at least make a decent first impression. 

 

Jack was jostled from his thoughts when the plane hit a pocket of turbulence and he felt Mark shift against him. Instinctively, one of his hands found its home in his partner’s dark hair. The other took off his headphones to see if the pilot had anything to say about the occurrence in case there was a problem, but there was nothing wrong. 

 

Mark woke up after a moment with a deep yawn. “How far are we?”

 

“Still over the ocean.” Jack answered.

 

“Oh, fuck the ocean…” Mark huffed, trying to get more comfortable in his seat but failing.

 

“I would, but it’s probably got crabs.” Jack jokes back.

 

Mark is caught completely off guard and melts into laughter, drawing odd looks from the other passengers. Neither of them care, both cackling at each other for a solid few minutes before they can force themselves to calm down. Eventually Mark goes back to sleep and Jack ends up joining him without meaning to.

 

They woke when the plane landed and Mark suddenly had endless energy when they stepped off and entered the airport. Thomas was waiting for them and Mark practically tackled his brother on sight, spurring an amused chuckle from Jack at how cute it was. He sobered up quickly though, aware the brothers hadn’t seen each other since Mark’s last trip. An over-enthusiastic hug was to be expected.

 

Jack went unnoticed for a moment as the brothers reacquainted themselves, happy to watch the two interact. Thomas certainly wasn’t as somber as he seemed before so Jack came to the conclusion that he was probably just the sort to be camera shy.

 

Thomas’s eyes fell on Jack, who promptly forgot every conversation he’d had inside his head. _Oh god, I am not prepared for this!_ His internal monologue, which was mostly screaming, was halted quickly as he was suddenly being hugged by the object of panic.

 

_What._

 

Jack looked over Tom’s shoulder to Mark questioningly, but Mark just smiled and shrugged. He was released quickly enough as the older brother turned to address Mark.

 

“I thought he’d be taller.”

 

 _Well fock you._ Jack thought, but kept that comment inside his head. Besides, he didn’t know if Thomas could take a joking insult in stride or not yet and he didn’t want to take the risk.

 

“You think everyone should be taller than me.” Mark responds.

 

“Not th’ size that counts.” Jack snarked, and immediately scolded himself for not keeping that in his head.

 

Mark shot him an odd look but took the accidental bait. “Well not for _you._ ”

 

“Grooooss.” Thomas added, then knocked a fist gently against Mark’s shoulder. “So, you want to go to the hotel or eat first?”

 

“Food.” Mark and Jack answered in unison, as they were both starving.

 

They loaded their belongings into the back of Thomas’s car and got in. Mark took the passenger's seat while Jack got free reign of the back. He would have liked to share the back with Mark but he wasn’t about to go questioning the arrangement. It wasn’t long at all before they had pulled into the parking lot of a restaurant. 

 

Jack had never been in a Cracker Barrel before but he absolutely loved it. Half of the restaurant was devoted to being a gift shop. The decor was… well, _tacky_ , but it had an odd sort of rustic charm. Thomas checked in with a woman at a podium between the store and the restaurant and the trio broke from each other to look around until they were called and Jack began to explore. 

 

After a bit of browsing he stumbled upon a small picture frame with the words “I Love My Dog” written in cursive at the top. He picked it up and snickered, glancing around to make sure the others couldn’t see him before quickly purchasing and stuffing into the same pocket at the collar, glad to find it actually fit. Bless deep hoodie pockets. He accomplished his quick mission with a feeling of victory and found Mark and Thomas arguing over board games.

 

“How many chessboards do you even need?”

 

“I like the pieces!”

 

“You have five sets!”

 

“Six now, actually.”

 

 _”Fischbach!”_ Called the woman at the podium, and Mark took the chess set from his brother to return it to the shelf where it belonged. 

 

They were shown to their table and sat down. Mark showed Jack how the pegboard game worked. The table had three so soon they were all racing with it. Thomas was the only one who could get down to one peg. Mark got it to two once but so far Jack kept getting four and he wasn’t sure what it was he was doing wrong but he was having fun, so who cares?

 

Their drinks came and their orders were taken, Jack having to fumble to remember what he had picked out since he wasn’t familiar with the menu. Mark excused himself to go to the bathroom and Thomas suddenly looks a whole lot more serious. He set down his drink on the table with all of the grace of a tiger about to make a kill. Jack felt a lump grow in his throat. _Well, here goes the Big Brother Talk._

 

“I was in FFA in high school. I know how to castrate livestock. Humans aren’t much different.” Thomas stated, his eyes boring into Jack’s who wasn’t sure if he was supposed to maintain eye contact or look away.

 

 _What the fuck is FFA and why do schools teach that?!_ Jack thought. How the hell was he supposed to respond to that?! Before his mental flailing could go on for too long, Thomas continued.

 

“Mark’s been through a bit… Just don’t be a shit to him. He’s far too nice and far too trusting sometimes. You’ve been cool so far and he never shuts up about you on the phone. Don’t fuck it up.” With that Thomas leaned back in his chair, picking up his glass again.

 

Jack still couldn’t configure a response and his mouth had gone dry from the threat, but that was fine as Mark returned a few seconds later. Mark noticed the tension instantly and sat with a huff, crossing his arms. 

 

“Dammit Tom, don’t scare him off.” Mark scolded.

 

Thomas put his glass down to raise his arms in a ‘What did I do?’ gesture. Mark raised a brow. Thomas sighed. Jack decided to stay out of the silent conversation going on between the brothers and focused on drinking the tea he hadn’t expected to be full of ice. Who on earth wanted cold tea? America was weird.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is tired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is soooo short. Shoot me. Chapters will continue to be late. Trying to prepare for DragonCon and I don't feel well.

When they got to the hotel Jack immediately busied himself with his suitcase, unpacking as a guise to hiding the picture frame. There was no sense in really unpacking since they would only be staying at the hotel for two nights, but it made for a good excuse. Besides, America was far too hot to keep his hoodie on.

 

“I’m fockin’ melting.” He gruffed, shedding the hoodie and wrapping it around the picture frame for good measure.

 

Mark started flicking water from a bottle at him at random after that comment. Jack ignored the assault, flopping face-down onto one of the beds. He heard a zipper and the ruffling of clothing and registered the fact that one of the brothers was following his example and unpacking as well. Either that or they needed something buried underneath everything else.

 

**_SQUAAAAA-AAA-A-AAAWK_** sounded throughout the room, stuttering as Mark was evidently trying and failing to keep it from being too loud.

 

Jack let out a deep, tired sigh. “Ye brought the _duck?!_ ”

 

“I like the duck.” Answered Mark, as if Jack should have expected it.

 

He probably should have. Thomas was biting back his snickers. He’d missed his brother’s silliness. Nevertheless, he snatched the plastic bird away and tossed it onto a desk.

 

“Well. I have to get up early tomorrow so I’m going to sleep. You two can fight over the shower, I’m taking mine in the morning.” With that, Thomas flopped onto the bed nearest the door.

 

This left the bed at the window for Jack and Mark to share, not that they minded in the slightest. Jack especially had grown accustomed to sleeping next to his partner and now he was uncertain if he would ever be able to sleep alone again. He already didn’t sleep very much to begin with. 

 

Jack took the first shower and was out quickly, awkwardly getting dressed in the bathroom since it was more than just Mark that would see him when he left the bathroom. Mark had seen him naked several times by now but he had no intentions for Thomas to see him in that state. His worries were unfounded though, as the older brother seemed to be asleep already.

 

Jack seated himself on the bed just as Mark got up from it and headed to the bathroom to take his turn. Jack then busied himself with his phone. He’d taken a few pictures today and tweeted the less obvious ones, making it out to be just a trip to Comic Con rather than a meet-the-family thing. Of course, the shippers were already claiming it to be some sort of date. That was fine by Jack. He decided a spree was in order and started to reply to comments, then he did a quick-tour vlog of the hotel room. 

 

He paused by the bathroom door and stopped the video, listening to the downpour of water. He thought of stepping in, wondering what Mark looked like with water rolling down his skin and steam rising off him. He’d seen Mark nearly naked a few times so he could imagine, but it would be a fine thing to actually view.

 

“FFA.” Thomas reminded, his voice muffled as he was face-down in his pillow.

 

Jack jumped away from the door. “I wasn’t doin’ nothin’.” He muttered, though he knew he didn’t sound convincing in the slightest.

 

He supposed he deserved the scare, having his mind in the gutter while the brother was in the room. Asleep or not, that was just bad manners. He returned to his bed and sat on the corner, returning his attention to his phone and trying to calm down. He regretted sleeping through most of the plane ride now. It was an odd thing to be exhausted from jet lag but completely unable to sleep. 

 

Exhaustion apparently lead to the weirdest tweets. Oh well. At least his followers thought it was amusing, most of them making the assumption that he was drunk. He actually didn’t drink that much. Less so since Mark had been with him. He didn't like the feeling of being drunk at all, if he was honest, but the Irish stereotypes were undying, apparently.

 

It took Mark almost an hour to get out of the shower. The bright side of a hotel was always the fact the water heaters were prepared to handle hundreds of showers a day and never run cold. Still, nearly an hour was excessive and Jack had been beginning to wonder if Mark had passed out in there. Apparently not.

 

“You alright there Mark?” Jack asked as Mark took his place on the shared bed. “Took a while.”

 

“I zoned out a little. My brain is so dead, dude.” Mark replied, flopping onto his side and dragging Jack down to join him.

 

“You have a brain?” Jack snarked, prompting a mock-scoff from his companion.

 

“I’ll have you know I could’ve been an engineer.” Mark then crossed his arms, putting on an air of offence that lasted all of five seconds before both men fell into giggles.

 

An irritated groan sounded from across the room. “Both of you shut the fuck up and go the fuck to sleep.”

 

They fell silent, but were both still awake long after Thomas had begun to snore. In the dark, Jack could feel Mark constantly shifting. Just small movements at first, touching his neck, rolling over. That sort of thing. When it started seeming a bit frantic, Jack sat up.

 

“What’s wrong?” Jack whispered, openly concerned.

 

“Where’s my collar?” Mark answered softly. 

 

Jack had to think on it before he remembered it was in his hoodie at the bottom of his suitcase. He rose to get it, trying to move quietly so as not to disturb Thomas. He fumbled with his clothes blindly. Trying to find something in the dark through touch alone in an unfamiliar setting was jarring to say the least and he would have missed it if not for the _clink_ of the D-ring knocking against the buckle.

 

He made it back to the bed, having to hold in a curse as he inevitably stubbed his toe against a chair leg on his way. “I’ve got it. Here.” He then fitted the collar around Mark’s neck with ease, not even needing sight for this bit since he’d had months of practice. “All better?”

 

“Much.” Mark sighed.

 

Within a second Jack found himself enveloped in Mark’s arms and they were still. It no longer mattered that they weren’t alone in an strange territory, their sleep schedules ruined for the time. Jack could feel Mark’s heartbeat against his spine, the breath on his neck, a familiar, unplaceable scent under unfamiliar soap, and strong arms around his waist. Likewise Mark was happy to listen to Jack’s breathing and have his warmth against him, the scent in his hair just the same as he’d actually bothered to bring his preferred shampoo rather than trust the hotel’s. Jack put his hand over Mark’s, who laced their fingers together. 

 

They were comfortable, they felt safe. Neither could sleep for the first few hours or so, but that was fine. Eventually Mark did drift off first as he always did, evident as his breathing slowed and his hold on Jack’s hand relaxed. Jack followed soon after.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First day at Comic Con

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always have at least one panic attack at conventions. I love going but just the sheer crowds and the fact I have to share a room with four or five other guys fucks me up.

Mark awoke to the buzz of his phone. Jack had already woken up and left the bed to make the quietest pot of coffee ever, Mark’s cup already made and waiting for him on the bedside table. Thomas had already left the room, presumably to set up his booth.

 

“There’s no caramel creamer anywhere, just vanilla.” Jack apologized, stirring sugar into his own cup.

 

Vanilla was different but he’d take it. He needed the caffeine anyway he could get it. He checked his phone, noticing the buzz had obviously come from a message from his brother. He opened it to find a picture of him and Jack spooning and he grinned, saving it to his phone before texting his brother back with the request he delete it.

 

“Vanilla works for now.” Mark sighed after taking a sip, realizing the double-meaning to his words only after he’d said them.

 

Jack missed it, of course, as he wasn’t as aware of certain vocabularies as Mark was. Still, if they were going to have to act like a vanilla couple for family’s sake they should probably have at least one real date. There was one problem though. This was San Diego Comic Con and they were almost certain to be recognized if they went anywhere. Ireland was a little less populated and they lived in a nearly rural area but this was a city and there were sure to be a mass of followers, especially since they tweeted that they were attending.

 

Other people went out with friends right? Jack had taken Mark for sushi while they had been only friends, surely they could pass off a date as platonic if anybody asked? Maybe? No. At the very least the shippers would have a full ten page essay on why septiplier was canon if they were seen on a date and with so many people there was no way they _wouldn’t_ be seen.

 

Once they left the room they wouldn’t be able to hold hands or kiss or do anything to out themselves aside from flirting, and that was only if they could pass it off as a joke. God, being a human was far too complicated. Dogs were better. Dogs didn’t worry about anything. Dogs were happy.

 

An involuntary whine escaped Mark before he could stop it and Jack immediately abandoned his coffee to sidle up to Mark, taking his coffee as well before he dropped it, and set it on the bedside table. He encircled the bigger man in his arms, who curled into him.

 

“C’mon, we’re not home. Ye can’t do this here.” Jack said softly, worried as he didn’t know what had caused the sudden stress or how to fix it. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

 

Mark didn’t speak. Of course he wouldn’t, not like this anyway. Jack straightened the collar a bit, reminding Mark it was there and hoping it would help at least a little. Mark just began to shake and Jack was flailing in the dark. _Was this Mark’s version of a panic attack?_

 

“I don’t know what ye need.” Jack admits only to realize _yes the fuck he did know._

 

He has an idea, at the very least. He left his partner to rummage through suitcases until he found the pink blanket, glad it had been packed, and draped it over Mark’s shoulders. He then resumed holding Mark, who gradually slid down until he was in Jack’s lap. And hand found it’s home in dark hair, the other brushing over Mark’s back roughly through the two layers of fabric. 

 

“I need ye to come back to me. The Dog is alright but I need Mark with me now. Please talk to me.”

 

About twenty minutes passed before anything happened, then Mark began to cry. “I’m sorry. Shit, I’m sorry.”

 

“Don’t. You’re fine. Everything’s fine.” Jack assured, beginning to rock his partner in an attempt to calm him. “What do ye need?”

 

Mark just clung closer, trying to stop his crying and regulate his breathing by syncing with Jack’s. He didn’t know how to answer. He needed proper Dog Time, which they’d been lacking and would probably have to go without until they got home again. A convention was usually a decent place to let your freak flag fly, but Mark’s and Jack’s faces were well known. They didn’t have the comfort of anonymity anymore. They didn’t even have their own room for the trip, a flaw they should have taken into account beforehand.

 

“Yer brother’ll be at his booth all day, yeah?” Jack asked.

 

They would have to leave the room eventually and participate in the convention, of course, but Jack figured they could spare an hour or two at the very least. Mark nodded an affirmative, scrubbing his hands over face.

 

“Are ye goin’ to be alright by yerself for a little while? I’ll bring us back some food and then we can do whatever fer a bit.”

 

Again, Mark only nodded, picking at the lettering of his collar. Jack noticed offhandedly that the ‘R’ was beginning to look a bit loose. He thought of getting it replaced, or maybe just repaired if Mark didn’t want to part with it. That could wait, though. They both needed to eat and Jack needed to figure out how to get his companion psyched up for the rest of this visit.

 

Jack got dressed and called a cab since he couldn’t drive in America, the roads were all backward and he didn’t have a license anyway. He ended up going to waffle house and getting two orders of steak and eggs, which he got in to-go boxes. He took it back to the cab whom he’d asked to stay. His leg started up shaking some time during the ride and he practically sprinted back into the hotel once he had paid the driver. 

 

He entered his keycard and footed the door open. “I went to Waffle House. It’s not just waffles!” He called his discovery cheerfully, though his face fell a bit when he noticed his boyfriend hadn’t moved even a fraction. 

 

He began to hand a box over, then thought better of it. He set the boxes down on the desk and opened the door long enough to hang a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the outside. He sent up a silent prayer to nothing that Thomas would stay at his booth because he was fairly sure the older brother would make good on his promise of castration if he saw it. 

 

He locked the door back and returned to the boxes of food, opening one, quickly cutting up the meat, and sitting at the desk. He put the prepared box on the floor next to him and whistled, watching Mark to make sure his actions were along the right route. He was pleased to see a bit of tension fall away from the Dog’s shoulders as he disentangled himself from the pink blanket, getting on fours and crawling over to eat. They’d left the knee pads at home of course, but at least the hotel had thick carpet.

 

Jack let out a sigh of relief as Mark ate, and he began to eat as well. He couldn’t stop sending paranoid glances at the hotel door. Logically he knew Thomas wouldn’t barge in and the sign would keep maids away, but it still felt risky to be doing this so far from home. Still, Mark obviously needed the time to get out of his head. _Or further into his head? Maybe it was a mix of both._ Jack couldn’t be sure.

 

Mark finished eating before Jack did and immediately took up space leaning heavily against the irishman’s leg and Jack felt himself start to relax at the simple closeness. They were together. Nobody could see them. They would be fine. This was fine. It took a few minutes, but eventually Jack stopped watching the door. He also decided that he definitely liked Waffle House.

 

Of course, steak and eggs are not the neatest things to eat without the use of silverware, and especially without even use of hands. Mark was a mess, Jack noticed. They may have both had showers last night but that turned out to be pointless now.

 

“Ye need a bath.” Jack voiced.

 

Mark gave him a confused look, head tilting a bit. Jack chuckled, hooking a finger into the D-ring of the collar and giving it a tug to nudge Mark toward the bathroom. They both went in, Jack locking the door behind them just for a bit of extra security. His thought from last night made it’s way to the front of his mind for a moment, but he squashed it down. Mark was a Dog right now, there was no room for a dirty mind.

 

He had Mark Sit while he ran the water, glad to see the Dog had no complaints so far, even though this was a completely new activity for both of them. He used his own body wash to get the tub filled with bubbles, then turned the water off once the tub had been filled. 

 

He turned back to Mark, kneeling in front of him and reaching over to grab the hem of the back of his shirt. Then he stops and finds Mark’s brown eyes, almost looking golden in the lighting. There was no protest in them and he slowly pulled the shirt off. Mark curled in on himself slightly, trying to put his scar out of sight and looking away.

 

“Hey, none o’ that. Yer perfect.” Jack soothes, aware of the insecurity. “Ye never have to hide from me.”

 

The pants went just as easily as the shirt, leaving Mark in just his collar and a pair of boxer briefs. Jack was struck with the realization that he had never seen Mark any less dressed than he was now and he wondered if he’d be crossing a line taking the remaining items off. Of course, they would have to come off for a proper bath.

 

“I know ye can’t talk but I need to know if I can take these off.” He stated, one hand on the buckle of the collar and the other fingering lightly along the waistband of the underwear.

 

Mark thought a second, looked to the tub, then nodded his consent. His collar wasn’t at all waterproof and it would take forever for the underwear to dry even if they hung it up. Neither of them wanted to have to explain the underwear situation later.

 

Jack nodded in reply, taking the strip of leather off. He took a second to check the lettering, which was loose as he’d noticed earlier. Upon further inspection he noticed the third hole in the strap was tearing as well, probably from all the times he’d fastened it on feeling alone. He set that on the counter and removed the underwear as clinically as he possibly could to make sure he didn’t make his companion uncomfortable.

 

Jack guided him into the bath and rolled up his sleeves. He halfway expected Mark to start fighting him once he hit water like most real dogs, but he didn’t.

 

“Thats a good boy.” Jack praised, retrieving a fresh washcloth.

 

Mark really wasn’t that messy, just his face. Jack started there but decided he may as well continue since they’d already started. Mark had relaxed a lot, all the earlier tension gone for the moment and the irishman was glad he’d given this weird thought a go.

 

When Jack got around to washing Mark’s stomach, the Dog had to sit back like a person. The scar was in the open now and Mark shifted nervously. As soon as the cloth touched the line of discoloured flesh Mark grabbed onto Jack’s wrist. Jack tried taking his hand away but Mark didn’t release him. 

 

Their eyes met and it was obvious the Dog was no longer a factor in the moment. At first Jack thought he’d done something wrong to break Mark’s headspace so suddenly, but the half-asian didn’t seem bothered, as he often was when subspace was broken unexpectedly. He felt the grip on his wrist loosen and Mark leaned forward. Their lips met and Jack hadn’t been prepared for that but he was in no way ever about to complain, and then Mark’s tongue was in his mouth and he had to restrain himself from climbing into the tub fully clothed. A feat that was made even harder by the fact Mark seemed to have every intention of pulling him in.

 

This was the first time ever Mark had been so heated. Jack was rather free with kissing Mark since they’d begun their relationship, but Mark was more reserved. He only ever initiated kisses if he had something important and wordless to say. Jack grew to understand it over time and while it had bothered him a bit at first, it felt more special Mark’s way. 

 

Jack was first to pull back as Mark seemed intent to go further than they had before. He was loathe to step away from the possibility that had presented itself, but he knew it wouldn’t feel right to do anything heavy in a hotel during Comic Con. 

 

“N-not here.” Jack stuttered as Mark let him go.

 

“I’m sor-” Mark began, curling somewhat.

 

“Don’t. Yer perfect.” Jack reassured, “I just think that should wait until we’re back home. Make it special, y’know? I don’t want ye regrettin’ nothin’.”

 

Mark seemed relieved at that, glad he hadn’t done anything wrong. They finished up bath time even though Mark was entirely human now, just to close the pattern, both ignoring the obvious issue. Jack then left the bathroom to let his partner dry himself and get dressed, among other things.

 

They spent the rest of the day out around the convention, meeting the followers that were in attendance. Autographs were signed, pictures were taken. Several people cried, which in turn caused Mark to cry. They brought Thomas food since he couldn’t leave his booth without someone to watch over it. The next few days went by in a similar fashion, though with considerably less stress on Mark, which Jack was glad for.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter where I use Google Translate a lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so tired.

The last day of the convention was spent browsing through the dealer room. None of them really planned on buying anything but it was something fun to do. Even more fans were met, some presenting them with gifts, most of which related to Septic Sam and Tiny Box Tim. One girl actually gave Mark a handmade stuffed rabbit. The day came to a close quickly enough and soon the trio had packed up and piled into Thomas's car for the long trip to Ohio. 

 

Again, Mark was up front in the passenger's seat while Jack took the back.The front seat seemed to be some sort of privilege, at least in the brothers’ way of thinking. Jack and his siblings had always followed Shotgun, but to each their own. 

 

The ride was considerably longer than the previous. Between traffic and sheer distance it took hours. Jack actually began feeling lonely after the first few, and was glad when they stopped for lunch. Mark must have picked up on this because when they piled back into the car he ended up in the backseat with Jack.

 

“No PTA in my car.” Thomas warned.

 

“PTA?” Jack questioned, confused.

 

Mark’s eyes widened, looking at Jack as if he’d committed some sort of blasphemy. “Penis Touching Association!” 

 

Jack was only more confused.

 

“Oh my god you don’t know Ninja Sex Party!” Mark continued, his voice reaching that high tone he had when frantic. “Thomas we have to educate him. Hook up my ipod.” 

 

“Driving.”

 

Mark scoffed, unbuckling his seatbelt to reach into the front to hook an auxiliary cord between the speakers and his ipod which he’d left in the front cup holder. Jack was still confused as Mark scrolled through his music before selecting the song he had been looking for. The song in question seemed dedicated to making completely innocent acronyms into dirty ones. Mark, of course, sung along very loudly.

 

Jack was still confused but not about PTA anymore, just about the fact a band like this existed. The voice was familiar, he noticed, so he asked.

 

“It’s Danny from Game Grumps.” Mark answered with a chuckle.

 

Mark opted to leave his seatbelt off in favor of flopping onto his side across Jack’s lap. Jack’s hand instinctively found it’s way into his companion’s hair. Thomas kept sending glares at Jack via the rear-view window, but he said nothing. Soon enough, Mark had fallen asleep.

 

When they arrived they were greeted by the tiniest Korean woman Jack had ever seen in his life, as well as several real dogs. He could definitely see the resemblance she bore to Mark, mainly in the nose and eyebrows, though Thomas had her eyes.

 

Seong-Suk was not aware prior to today that Mark had a boyfriend, as he had wanted to tell her in person and Thomas had told her nothing. She looked a bit lost when her son walked into her house holding hands with a man, but she recovered quickly.

 

“Mark you take that damn collar off in here. Dangsin-eun deo na-eun algoissda.”

 

_You know better._ Jack translated in his head.

 

Mark fumbled a bit with the buckle. “Geugeos-eun naleul gibun johge handa.”

 

_It makes me feel better._ Jack understood again, then came to the realization that Mark had no idea Jack could speak Korean. Enough to get by at least, though he would admit he was rusty. His first girlfriend had lived in Korea and Mark didn’t know that either. He wondered if he should say something, but an argument had started and he couldn’t find the nerve to interrupt. He felt like he was intruding, but he couldn’t get a word in.

 

Thomas took pity on him and lead him back outside, away from the mess unfolding in the Fischbach house. The two sat together on the front steps of the porch.

 

“Yeah, they’re usually like that.” The older brother said before Jack could even ask. “They’ll be besties once they cool down though, no worries. They just disagree on the collar.”

 

“I know.” Jack admitted, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. “I can understand most o’ what they’re sayin’.”

 

Thomas stared at him for a moment, then opened his mouth to speak. “Nae dongsaeng eun dalamjwi ui wang ida.”

 

“I know he is. If I could be a squirrel, I would be.” Jack answered, passing the apparent test easily.

 

“Well there goes my plan to talk shit to your face.” Thomas sighed, then noticed Jack’s less than pleased expression. “I’m kidding, man. Lighten up.”

 

Mark stormed out of the house a few minutes later, collar in his hand before he tossed it to Jack. Thomas raised a brow at that, but didn’t question it. Jack however, grew concerned. Mark never threw his collar, even to a safe space. It was always handled carefully, at least before now. Mark didn’t stop though. He just kept walking down the driveway, face reddened and raking his fingernails roughly over the back of his neck and through his hair.

 

Jack was on his feet and following as quick as a bullet. “Woah, hey, what happened?”

 

Mark stopped, allowing Jack to take his hands in his own. “Sh-she thinks I’m stupid.” Mark stuttered, already on the verge of tears.

 

Thomas stood and went back into the house, unnoticed by the other two.

 

“No, I’m sure she doesn’t. Yer not stupid. Yer brilliant and sweet and gorgeous and I love ye an’ yer ma loves ye.” Jack reassured, his accent thickening from the secondhand stress.

 

Despite himself, Mark choked out a small laugh. “Gar-jess.” He teased, and Jack rolled his eyes fondly.

 

If Mark needed to make fun of his accent to feel better or at least have a distraction, then Jack would do his best. He would make a total ass of himself if that’s what it took to keep his partner smiling.

 

“Yer mut’er’ll come ‘round. Yeh’ll see, laddie. Shae jus’ needs a wee bit o’ lucky charms an’ shae’ll be roight as rain.” Jack took pride in vastly overdoing it, especially when Mark let out half a laugh. “Thar’s me good boyo!”

 

Jack knew he sounded stupid. He did not care.

 

“D’ye wanna go home?” He asked once Mark had calmed.

 

Mark was silent for a short while before nodding.

 

"Okay. We'll go home."

 

Mark explained what had happened between he and his mother when they were back in Ireland, feeling much safer in his blanket with his collar on. Seong-Suk had expressed some skepticism over why Mark had moved to the green country for a boy he didn't know, despite the hypocrisy in it. Sure, she and Mark's father had met in person, but so had Mark and Jack, though the woman was convinced they'd met online. Mark tried to explain it hadn't happened like that at all. Seong-Suk wouldn't listen and Mark couldn't stand the senseless argument anymore. It was easier and better for his mind to just leave. Apparently Thomas had confronted the woman after Mark had left the house, as she later called to apologize. Mark accepted the apology, offering his own, but he didn't want to visit her again any time soon.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So... No homo but...
> 
> All the homo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just getting this uploaded. I'm all set for DragonCon and leave for that wednesday. Going to use the next two day purely for rest because once the Con starts I'm not going to sleep for a week. Seriously, I'll be high on energy drinks and assorted non-perishable foods and my own anxiety. Then when I get home after the week I'm going to have a nice little coma before I get back to typing.

After the encounter with Mark’s mother they decided to take a break before tackling Jack’s large family. Now they were home, each in their respective offices recording Prop Hunt.

 

“HE’S A FUCKIN’ CAN WADE!” Shouted the Irishman, chasing after the little blue soda can that was weaving its way between Jack’s feet. Deep giggling sounded in his headphones, drawing his focus far more than the other two voices. “STAY STILL YE BASTARD!”

 

The giggling became a screech as Jack threw a grenade, killing Mark and himself, “WHY?! We were DANCIN’!” Shouted the American as the hunters and props swapped. “Didn’t you want to dance with me, Jack?”

 

Jack shook his head and laughed, “I don’t like the way you were dancin’. I dance better. You were making me look bad.”

 

It was then that Bob chimed in that the two have a dance-off so the comments could decide on the better dancer. Jack nearly knocked over his camera in his enthusiasm and Mark’s headphones wound up on the floor. After editing and uploading the comments were pretty evenly split over the next few days, though Mark would insist that he had won anyway.

 

The insistence was how Jack had wound up on his back on the floor, Mark hovering over him. It was accidental. They had been roughhousing on the couch over the continued joking argument over who was superior. The debate was a recurring one, though the theme often changed. Who was the better dancer, the manliest, just the best at anything.

 

Mark was physically stronger. They lost their balance, tumbling from the couch to the floor in a heap and Mark used the opportunity to pin his partner. Jack, dazed a bit from knocking his head, tried to push the american off and was reminded of the last time they’d been in a similar position. He tried guarding his sides with his arms in case Mark decided another tickle was in order, but his hands may as well have been nailed to the floor with how Mark was holding them down.

 

Last time had been awkward, but only because they weren’t a couple then. Jack locked eyes with his companion and deliberately rolled his hips against where the other had sat on him. Mark’s eyes widened comically. They still hadn’t gone past messy kisses and heavy petting yet; Jack was more than happy to wait for Mark to be ready.

 

Mark had seemed ready during that bath time at Comic Con, but they hadn’t done anything after, even thought they were home and had all the time in the world. Bath time actually became a regular thing if ever the Dog seemed especially stressed, but neither of them tried getting physical during it again.

 

But now, on the floor of their living room, Jack was blushing from his ears to his shoulders. Mark released one of the irishman’s wrists to let his hand skate gently up under the front of Jack’s shirt. He hesitated, looking back into the electrified blues watching him. 

 

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” The half-asian admitted, letting go of Jack’s other hand and leaning back.

 

The action unintentionally settled the brunt of the bigger man’s weight onto the irishman’s groin and he had to bite back a groan. He noticed Mark was visibly shaking, and he could feel it as well. He didn’t know whether to find it cute or be worried that his partner seemed so nervous.

 

“Jus’ do whatever ye want.” Jack told him, honestly bad advice but he wanted Mark to be comfortable. “Whatever feels right, that is.” He amends, pushing himself to sit up and trying to ignore how the shift of weight caused Mark’s rear to move over his rapidly growing erection. “Maybe not here though. Th’ floor’s hard.”

 

Within an hour Jack learned two things. Mark’s voice was the most erotic thing he had ever had the pleasure of hearing, and you should never let a virgin top. He had wanted to make sure Mark was okay with everything and they both finished happily, but after the afterglow had passed Jack was very raw. Mark, however, was happily half asleep. 

 

Jack leaned over to kiss the fluffy hair, muttering a fond “Yer a pain in the arse.” before getting up to take a shower.

 

Scratch that, he learned three things. Third being that if cum goes in gravity will pull it right back out as soon as he was upright again. He quickened his pace to the bathroom, praying to any entity that would listen that he wouldn’t drip on the floor.

 

After he was all cleaned out and feeling twisty fresh again he got back onto the bed, curling up to Mark’s back and resting his forehead between the other’s shoulder blades.

 

“Are ye okay?” He asked quietly, not wanting to wake Mark but feeling the need to check on him.

 

“Hmm yeah…” Mark hummed. “Are you?”

 

Jack ached all over, he just knew his innards would be sore for days, and he wanted to sleep for a month.

 

“I’m fantastic.” He answered honestly, pressing a kiss to his lover’s spine. “I love you, Mark. I really do.”

 

“I love you too.” Mark answered, the smile apparent in his voice even through the fatigue.

 

“I need you.”

 

“You have me.”

 

Their accidental nap made its way well into sleep, the second videos of the day never getting uploaded. While Mark was usually late, Jack had never been. Naturally the followers started trying to summon him to twitter in various stages of curiosity to full blown panic. Jack’s first tweet the next morning ended up being: **I AM NOT DEAD!!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Matt and Ryan outdo themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uploading this real quick before my coma since I pre-typed it.  
> ALSO I MET A GUY AT DRAGONCON AND HE'S FUCKIN G R E A T!!!!!!1!!!!1!!!!111!!

Mark would be turning 27 soon. Jack of course wanted to make sure his partner felt appreciated and got to see all of his friends. First order of business was getting in touch with Matt and Ryan as they knew Mark the best, aside from Jack himself. He wanted to speak to them face to face though, not just over text as they usually did.

 

“Hey Mark?” He called from his computer desk.

 

“Yeah?” Mark answered, strolling into the room.

 

“Could ye get Matt and Ryan on Skype fer me? I don’t have their contact.”

 

Mark nodded. “Yeah sure.” He stepped forward, leaning over Jack to pull up Skype, signing into his own account.

 

He went ahead and clicked to call the duo, noticing the green icon that declared them available. They answered almost instantly and Jack’s brain short circuited, momentarily refusing to register what he was seeing.

 

What he was seeing was primarily Matt’s naked back. Beyond him was Ryan, likewise naked as far as Jack could tell as, thankfully, the camera was only showing about waist up. One of Ryan’s hands was at the keyboard, the other on Matt’s hip. There was movement, a sigh.

 

Jack squeaked and fumbled to end the call. Mark laughed, swatting his hand away and called right back.

 

“It’s okay, they do this every time I call them. There’s a fifty percent shot they might be wearing pants.” Mark explained. “Though they _are_ exhibitionists so…”

 

Jack glared, but didn’t have time to respond as the strange duo were back on screen just as they had left off. Matt turned slightly and winced before speaking.

 

“What do you need, guys?”

 

Mark shrugged. “Jack wanted you.” He told them, since Jack was apparently having trouble finding his words.

 

Mark moved to sit at his usual place on the floor at Jack’s side, but the irishman stopped him. “A-actually, Mark, could ye go do somethin’?”

 

Mark frowned, confused as he looked between his boyfriend and the lewd display on the screen. “Uh… Yeah okay.” He walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

 

Jack felt bad for sending him away, but he could cheer him up later. He turned back to his computer, trying to ignore the obvious roll of hips and the barely suppressed groans.

 

“I was hopin’ to get all o’ Mark’s friends together fer his birthday.” He stated, deciding to get right to the point in the hoped of ending this awkwardness quickly.

 

Matt arched his back, letting out a frantically whispered; “Ah! Shit, Ryan, right there!”

 

Ryan moved his keyboard hand to card through the back of Matt’s hair as he spoke, obviously clearer-headed than the skinny man riding him. “What’s the plan? Or - _fffuck_ \- is there a plan yet?”

 

“Er… I’m not sure yet.” Jack admitted, looking away. It felt like his face was on fire. “Can ye stop fer this or should I call back later?”

 

Matt groaned loudly, this time sounding more annoyed than pleased.

 

Ryan shared his partner’s sentiment. “Killjoy…”

 

Matt lifted himself off from where he had been straddling the stockier man and Jack was glad to see that Mark had been right. He couldn’t see all of Ryan, but Matt did indeed have pants on. Obviously they were just messing around. Or dry humping. Jack hoped it was the former just for his own sanity.

 

The two resituated so they were sitting next to each other. “He doesn’t really do big birthdays.” Matt stated.

 

“Yeah. He’d go big for someone else’s birthday but not his. Maybe just get everyone together and take him to dinner.” Ryan suggested. “Unless he’s hinted at something else?”

 

“No, I don’t think he has. At least nothin’ I’ve noticed. He doesn’t know how to be subtle.” Jack wracked his brain for any possible hints Mark may have tossed his way but came up blank.

 

“Well most of his friends are in America… We could probably all band together and make the trip there if you want to surprise him though.” Matt offered.

 

Jack was glad they seemed on the same page as him. “I was hopin’ to make it a surprise if I could.”

 

“Got it.” Ryan nodded sharply.

 

“We’ll get everyone here on board.” Matt added.

 

“Thanks. Well, I’ll let ye get back to… whatever you were doin’.”

 

“You know exactly what we were doing.” Matt chuckled, turning and swinging a leg back over Ryan to resume their previous position.

 

“I was hopin’ I was wrong.” Jack admitted, “Why on earth would ye answer a video call like that?!”

 

“I did not answer your call and give you birthday advice for you to kinkshame me on my own computer!” Ryan scoffs, feigning offense.

 

“You have no right to kinkshame us, you dirty leprechaun.” Matt stated, reaching over to end the call.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark's Birthday party. How the fuck do you get icing on the ceiling?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and Fluffy.   
> Will still be slow to upload but I'm trying to get back into my rhythm.

The beginning of Mark’s birthday was spent with Jack keeping him in the house. Usually, Mark was happy to just hang out, but he must have figured out something was up. If Jack thought about it, Mark probably wanted to leave the house purely because of the fact Jack was trying to keep him in.

 

“I’m almost thirty. I’m old, at least let me yell at kids to get off our lawn.”

 

“Yer not old yet and there are no kids on the lawn.”

 

“You don’t know that.” Mark counters, “Have you looked?”

 

Jack just rolled his eyes, checking his phone. He had everything set up at a near steakhouse, he was just waiting for word that everyone was there. Matt, Ryan, Bob, Wade, Felix, and Thomas. Altogether it would be a party of eight and Jack had actually reserved an entire room for them all in advance so the place would be empty for a few hours. They were _absolutely not_ spending the day pretending they weren’t boyfriends on the chance they had followers at the restaurant. 

 

Mark eventually shoved himself over Jack’s lap, under his arms as he typed away on his phone. He dug his elbow into the nerve between Mark’s shoulder blade and spine, causing the bigger man to squirm. The phone buzzed and Jack read through the text.

 

“Ye can chase all the kids outta the yard later.” Jack teased. “Fer now, behave and go get dressed. I’m takin’ ye somewhere.”

 

Mark predictably grumped just to be contrary, but it was lighthearted. Jack knew he wasn't really upset about having to put on real pants instead of his grey sweatpants. He left the irishman's lap to get dressed, leaving Jack alone for a while since he'd already gotten dressed that morning. After a few minutes Mark emerged from the room again in dark jeans and his favorite lucky flannel. He paired with Jack's blue hoodie, black skinny jeans, and puffball beanie. They looked like quite the set.

 

They dodged raindrops as they ran to the car, Jack settling in the driver’s seat and Mark in the passenger’s. Before starting the car, Jack turned to his partner, shifting to take a long strip of cloth from his back pocket. Mark snorted.

 

“I don’t think we should get kinky in the car, man.”

 

Jack barked out a laugh and shook his head, “It’s not fer that.”

 

Mark smiled and sighed, then closed his eyes to allow the blindfolding, holding the cloth in place so Jack could tie it behind his head more easily. Jack then kissed him, unable to help himself. Mark reciprocated, then swatted him.

 

“No getting kinky in the car.” The american reminded.

 

“Awwww… Not even road head?” Jack teased, settling back in his seat and starting the car up.

 

“That’s how you get your dick bitten off.”

 

They both erupted in a fit of giggles at that as Jack pulled out of the driveway. Mark occupied himself with blindly fiddling with the radio. And the window. And every other button within his reach. Jack was glad his car autolocked while in motion, otherwise he’d have to worry about his silly boyfriend accidentally opening the door on top of focusing on the road. It was mildly difficult with Mark opening and closing his window, allowing flecks of rain to get in the car at odd intervals. Jack would have asked him to knock it off, but allowed it since he wasn’t about to tell Mark he couldn’t entertain himself on his birthday. 

 

They made it safely to the restaurant and Jack helped his partner out of the car, leading him quickly into the building. Everyone attending was sitting quietly, grinning widely at the birthday boy but waiting patiently. Thomas was holding up a camera. The cap was of and the light shone, indicating it was already recording.

 

Jack let go of Mark and quietly stepped away, joining the small crowd. Mark felt around for a second, floundering at the loss before lifting his hands to the cloth over his eyes. He removed it and rubbed his eyes to regain clear vision. 

 

_**”SURPRISE!!!”**_ Rang out as several voices, Jack’s still being the loudest and cracking slightly with the strain.

 

Mark startled at the sudden barrage of noise, then began to laugh when he realized what it was. He covered his blushing face with his hands. He had expected Jack to take him somewhere nice, but seeing his brother and friends in person was far more than he’d imagined. He then heard a **crack!** as Bob and Wade shot little confetti launchers at him, several pieces getting stuck in his hair. Felix also dumped a tube of pink glitter onto him, which naturally started a short game of tag in which Mark chased the others around the restaurant with the intent of hugging everyone and spreading the sparkles. Jack was easily caught first. The only one to escape the ‘Fairy Hugs’ was Thomas because Mark didn’t want his brother dropping the camera.

 

The staff of the steakhouse was reasonably pissed about the mess, but were quickly assured that the group would clean up after themselves. Food was had. _Happy Birthday_ was sung (very loudly and comically off-key) while the obscenely large cake was brought in. Matt and Ryan made sure icing got into ridiculous places… like the ceiling.

 

A bit of vlogging was done off and on throughout the night before it was time to clean up and leave. Mark wasn’t allowed to help with the clean-up, of course. The night ended with soulful goodbyes, and then Jack took Mark home. 

 

“What’d ye wish fer?” Jack asked when they had curled up together in bed for the night.

 

“Nothing,” Mark answered softly. “I already have you. I’m happy.”

 

“Yer a sap, is what’chu are.” Jack teased, though he was truly touched.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet the McLoughlins!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea how Jack's family actually is aside from the fact he has four older siblings.

The events of Mark’s birthday were edited into two fifteen minute videos and posted to each channel, with each video using different parts of footage. Jack kept the full version on his computer. He thought of burning it to a disk to have a physical copy as well. He left himself a note on his phone to buy a few blank disks for that purpose.

 

The two got back into their routine easily, which held strong for a few days until Aidah decided to invite the boys over to her house. Jack recognized it for what it was easily. He fully expected all four of his siblings to be there as well, and sure enough when he walked in the door there they were.

 

Jack was immediately enveloped in three sets of arms. He recognized Rachel first, somewhere under his chin. Sarah had tucked herself into his armpit, and Christopher formed the outer layer of the tiny planet of McLoughlins. Niall wasn’t participating, instead sitting on a stool with his back to the counter. The eldest nodded and waved, but did not get up. Jack also noticed a little ginger baby in a carrier on the couch and grinned as Rachel was considerably less pregnant that when he had seen her last.

 

Mark walked into the house a short second later, grinning at the affectionate irish family. Aidah moved to greet him warmly with a hug of his own since Jack was swarmed. 

 

“Make yerself at home, Fido. I’ll wet the tea and be back in a mo’.” The woman chirped, releasing the american and returning to the kitchen.

 

Mark rolled his eyes at the nickname, but didn’t even try to deny it. He glanced to Jack who just shrugged as his siblings freed him, and followed the brown-haired sister to the couch to meet the baby. Suddenly, the youngest woman was in front of him, staring intently at him. 

 

“Damn, Sean. What’re ye payin’ fer this brasser?” She asked. 

 

Mark’s smile dropped from his face and Jack huffed. 

 

“He’s not a prostitute, he’s my boyfriend. Be nice Sarah, ye arse.” Jack called, picking up the baby as they were taken out of the carrier and handed to him. “He’d be priceless even if he was.”

 

Sarah flicked her red hair over her shoulder. “T’was a compliment.” She chuckled, and hopped onto the stool next to the Niall, who turned around and faced the counter.

 

Mark immediately got the feeling that Niall didn’t like him, but was drawn from his thoughts as the other McLoughlin brother, Christopher if his memory served, patted him strongly on the back. He noticed Christopher was very tall compared to the rest, and looked extremely similar to the sister with the baby that hadn’t spoken to him so far. Twins maybe?

 

“Welcome te the crew, mate.” Christopher said cheerfully, and Mark felt better about the meeting.

 

Mark joined Jack on the couch, wanting to be close to his partner as the sheer amount of people in the area was overwhelming. He could handle meeting strangers that already liked him from his videos, but the McLoughlins were people who he really wanted to make a good impression on. As soon as he sat down Jack had handed him the baby and Mark had no idea what to do aside from hold the child as protectively as possible, not sure what else he was supposed to do.

 

“This is Benji!” Jack chirped, and Rachel smiled.

 

Mark, of course, said the first thing that popped into his head. “Oh my god, he’s so tiny!”

 

Rachel and Jack both laughed. Benji just looked up at Mark, confused about the strange man that was holding him but not very bothered. He only gurgled, then set to work seeing how much of his hand could fit into his mouth at once.

 

“Ye ever get both hands in there, ye’ll never have te pay fer university.” Rachel joked, reaching over to take her son back.

 

Mark decided there must be a gene for crude wit carried in all of the McLoughlin ladies, since every example that had spoken to him seemed to have something lewd to say the second any opportunity presented itself. The boys, aside from Jack seemed milder mannered so far.

 

Aidah returned with a tray of teacups, pausing at everyone to hand them all the one meant for them, then took a seat at the counter with Niall and Sarah. Jack happily took his tea and cuddled up to Mark, who put an arm around the smaller man. Niall mouthed something and shook his head before taking a sip from his cup. Mark was the only one to notice, but decided to ignore it as the Matriarch of the small clan spoke up. 

 

“Nobody better go jumpin’ ‘round. I’ve put a cake in th’ cooker.” She began, then turned her attention on Jack. “How’d the visit te America go? Have fun, did’ja? Ye did’ne bother callin’.” 

 

Jack easily fell into storytelling mode, leaving out the more private occurences of course. Mark interjected occasionally to tell his part of it, eventually taking over to explain why they had come home early. 

 

“Ah, yer Ma’ll come ‘round.” Aidah reassured. “She’s jus’ gotta realize you like what she likes and that ye got more in common fer it.” Niall muttered something into his tea, and Aidah reached over to swat the back of her eldest son’s head. “Thirty-eight’s not too old te redden yer arse.”

 

Mark fell quiet after that, now uncomfortable. Jack picked up on that and took his hand, squeezing it reassuringly. Mark silently thanked him by returning the squeeze. Aidah left the room to take the cake out of the oven, calling Rachel to help her. The baby was once again given to Jack, who settled the baby between Mark and himself. Both were happy to play with Little Benji while his mother and grandmother were busy.

 

Stew and cake was had together as a big family dinner, and Aidah insisted everyone stay overnight since the usual rain had progressed into a storm. She wouldn’t have any of her children driving through that sort of weather. Niall seemed annoyed at being kept in, but the rest made a night of it, piling blankets and pillows on the floor of the living room. Rachel shoved a pillow and a quilt into a laundry wicker to makeshift a cradle for Benji, and all settled on the floor and surrounding furniture. They took turns selecting movies until they drifted off to sleep, one by one, starting with the quiet Christopher and ending with Jack.. 

 

The next morning was nice and _almost_ sunny. Jack and Mark were glad to drive home in clear weather, taking a tupperware of leftover stew with them. As soon as they walked in, Jack made a beeline for the coffee maker as Mark checked his phone. The american’s face fell as he read the screen.

 

“Oh, shit.” Mark muttered, drawing Jack’s attention from the loud appliance.

 

“What? Somethin’ happen?” Jack asked, growing concerned.

 

Mark shook his head, handing his phone over. Jack read through what he was shown.

 

“Oh… _Shite_ …”


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a sore lack of the Benny Hill theme, but at least there's a bit of creative cursing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing so many irish characters has a fun side effect. I've been thinking in the accent.

There was now a picture circulating twitter of the two, curled up embracing each other on the floor of the McLoughlin house. He traced the picture to its origin and wasn’t surprised to find out that it had come from his oldest brother, Niall. The caption under it was like a solid punch to the heart, and will not be relayed in this writing. He knew Niall was a much more traditional person than himself, and it wasn’t like he was very close to his brother to begin with, but the blatant betrayal from family was unexpected and more than enough to draw tears.

 

He became vaguely aware of arms coming to rest around him. The embrace should have been comforting. It would have been, if not for the raw emotion coursing through him. His blood was boiling, or frozen, he couldn’t be sure which. He was sure as he was suffocating.

 

“Don’t touch me.” Jack breathed.

 

“Sean…” Mark called softly, but Jack pushed him away.

 

“Get off me, jus’… Jus’ go away!” Jack shouted, and brought his hands up to hide his face.

 

Mark flinched back, torn between the need to comfort his partner, and the urge to do as he was told and hide away. He decided on the latter, hurt and feeling discarded. He quietly shut himself in his office, dejectedly curling into the back of his crate like the kicked puppy he felt like. He could hear Jack start crying from where he was, and he began to cry as well. A few minutes later he heard Jack leave their house and drive away.

 

Jack wasn’t sure where he wanted to be, he just knew he didn’t want to be where he was. This prompted him to drive mindlessly, forcing himself to think only of the road. Maybe he would be able to handle the situation better after he had time to calm down and dissociate for a while. He knew, however, the longer he left it the worse it would get. 

 

He continued to drive on instinct until he found himself on the way to his mother’s house, even though he had only left that morning. The girls had gone, but he recognized Christopher’s car, as well as Niall’s. Good. He had a fair bit to say to his oldest brother and none of it was nice. He pulled into the driveway just a bit too close to the back of Niall’s car, well away it would prevent his brother from leaving until Jack was finished tearing into him.

 

Jack barged in with no thought to knock, finding his intended target immediately. His ma and Christopher were in the room as well but he paid no mind to them as he made a beeline for his eldest brother, fisting his hand into his shirt and pulling him up to stand from his seat on the couch.

 

“WOT T’E ROYAL FOCK IS YER GODDAMN DAMAGE, YE ROACH-SHITE BASTARD?!” Jack roared as Aidah and Christopher stood, startled at his unannounced, enraged presence. “D’YE KNOW WHAT YE DID?!”

 

Niall lifted his hands in a placating gesture as he looked down sternly at Jack. “I know exactly what I did.”

 

Jack reeled back to punch his brother, but Christopher caught his arm and held him back. Aidah was having none of this and raised her voice.

 

“Wot in the Lord’s name has gotten inte ye, Sean? Yer not hittin’ yer brother in my house.” She demanded, slapping her palm against the table, then turning to Niall. “An’ wot did ye do ter get him worked up?”

 

“He’s gonna get hurt goin’ the way he’s goin’.” Niall offered has his only explanation, and was smart enough to take a step back away from the youngest McLoughlin.

 

Jack shook Christopher off his arm, who released him easily. He fished his phone out of his pocket to pull up the hateful twitter post, and showed it to his mother. It felt like tattling, but Jack figured she would forgive him for fratricide if she knew what had happened firsthand. Niall glared at Jack and began taking subtle steps toward the door. He didn’t get very far before Aidah rounded on her eldest son, striking him with the back of her hand.

 

“Ye spiteful arse!” The woman barked, and Niall brought a hand up to his reddening face in shock. “Yer supposed te take care of yer little brothers, not tear ‘em down. Chrissy, hold him.”

 

Christopher had Niall in a headlock in an instant. While Niall was the oldest, Christopher was nearly a head taller and had no trouble keeping him restrained. Aidah huffed, her face growing red as she left the room. Jack hadn’t expected his mother’s reaction. Rather, he expected her to be angry, but not to lash out. Jack considered taking a swing at Niall while his mother couldn’t see him, but a look from Christopher stopped him from it. Instead, he only glared. Niall glared back.

 

“What did ye mean I’d get hurt?” Jack decided to question.

 

“Ye think a man like that would stay in a foreign country just fer love? He’s usin’ ye ter get hisself famous like you. He’ll just drop ye when he doesn’t need yer help anymore.” Niall spat. “Or he’ll just stick around until he gets bored o’ ye and finds another tail te chase after.”

 

Jack grit his teeth. 

 

“Nibs, shut yer face, ye homophobic twit.” Christopher muttered, and eliminated the choice by resituating an arm over his brother’s mouth.

 

Jack began to speak, but didn’t get the chance as his ma had returned with a thin belt folded in her hand. Christopher released their brother, and both he and Jack got out of Aidah’s way as quickly as possible. The belt went swinging faster than Niall could even try to dodge.

 

“I’m a grown man, ye can’t jus’-” Niall began, but was unable to finish as the belt caught his hip.

 

“I told ye thirty-eight’s not too old fer me ter take a belt to ye and ye went ahead and kept on pushin’ yer narrow horseshite like an old fockin’ codger.” Aidah scolded, taking another swing at her eldest and catching the back of his knee as he tried to avoid her.

 

“Ma, would’ja stoppit?” Niall yelped.

 

If Jack hadn’t been so distraught about the whole situation he might have laughed at his brother’s misfortune of angering their mother and causing her to chase around the room after him. Christopher must have noticed his sour look, as the taller man helpfully leaned over and whispered to Jack.

 

“Benny Hill Theme’d make this perfect.”

 

Jack had to hold back an ungraceful snort. Thankfully his mother didn’t notice the humor. It was short-lived, but Jack was glad for his quiet brother’s rare dry jokes. After a few minutes the belting drew to a close and Aidah plopped into her arm chair, dropping her head into her hands. Her hair fell in a frizzy curtain, obscuring her face from view. She was quiet for a moment, and the silence was scarier than the violence. Her shoulders began to shake, and all three of her present children were struck with the realization that their mother was crying.

 

“Ma…” Niall began, stepping toward her.

 

“Don’t ‘Ma’ me, boyo.” She sniffled. “I tried my best ter raise you lot right, but I’ve failed with you, Niall. Yer turnin’ into a bitter old man before me eyes an’ ye hurt yer brother…” She looked up, eyes reddened and glistening. 

 

All three boys had the sense to look away, either in respect or shame. They all hated to see her disappointed. Aidah then continued.

 

“Sean, ye can take yer brother outside but don’t throw fists in here. Niall, keep yer mouth shut an’ listen to yer brother for once. Chrissy… You can do whatever the fock ye want, ye’ve always got decent sense in ye.”

 

Christopher ducked his head to hide his proud smile at that comment. Jack, though he now had the permission to knock Niall into medieval times found himself without the energy to do so. Instead, he felt the need to talk. He dragged his oldest brother outside anyway and took a deep breath.

 

“Ye don’t know Mark…” He began, and of course Niall interrupted the second he paused.

 

“I know he’s bad fer you!”

 

“No! Ye don’t! Ye didn’t even try to meet him when he was here. Ye just made a judgement call - a _bad_ one, I might add - based on the fact he’s got a dick. D'ye know how stupid that is?” 

 

“Ye need a girl.” Niall interrupted once again, and Jack balled his hands into fists.

 

“Ma just cried tellin’ ye ter listen, so for once in yer fockin life shut up and _listen to me now._ ” Niall clamped his mouth shut, and Jack continued. “I’ve dated girls before. I’ve dated boys before. Mark is the first man, the first _person_ I’ve ever felt so strongly about. I don’t give a shite if ye don’t like him, but ye can keep yer opinion in yer head instead of showing it off to the entire goddamn internet.”

 

There was a pause, and Niall spoke again. “He’s jus’ gonna hurt ye.”

 

“He _hasn’t_ hurt me. You have.” Jack stated quietly, and he suddenly remembered his earlier actions toward his partner. “I might have hurt him, though. Fock, I pushed him away… Why’d I do that?”

 

He checked his phone, taking note he’d been away from home for hours and hadn’t told Mark where he was going. He cursed, pulling up Mark’s contact and calling. Nobody picked up.

 

“I gotta go, tell Ma I went home again.” Jack called to his brother as he got into his car as quickly as he could. 

 

Jack sped home, thankful none of the Guard caught him at it. He knew he was breaking quite a few traffic laws in his haste to get back and apologize. The foul twitter post probably hurt Mark just as badly and Jack felt sickened at how badly he had handled it. His heart was in his throat as he unlocked the door and stepped inside.

 

“Mark?” He called, and received no answer.

 

He checked throughout the house, but nobody was home.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this is set in Ireland and the first mention of sheep is here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writers Block killed me dead and then I watched the entirety of LazyTown and this is short and I'm sorry.

Jack tried to call Mark again, but it was disappointed to hear it buzzing from inside the crate. It was loud against the metal bar, mocking him. He had to force himself to think clearly, a nearly impossible feat as he was only managing to work himself into more of a panic.

 

_You fucked up. You fucked up. You fucked up. You fucked up. You fu-_

 

It just kept repeating in his head. He couldn’t even be mad at his brother anymore. Sure, Niall had started the mess but Jack had only made it worse. 

 

He was torn. He wanted to go looking for Mark, but also wanted to stay in case the American came back. Frustrated, he threw the car keys he still had in his hand. They hit the window, which cracked but did not fully break.

 

He looked to the window and froze. Before he did anything, he needed to think. They had purposely gotten a house in the middle of nowhere. There wasn't much within walking distance and the only car was with Jack. Mark could have called a car, of course, but Jack hoped he hadn't. There _was_ a forested area nearby. It was the only thing of interest for a considerable distance, unless you counted sheep as interesting, so Jack picked his keys off the floor and headed out once again to look for his boyfriend.

 

He parted the car at the edge of the woods and set out on a hiking trail. Surely if Mark was in the forest he wouldn't stray from the path, or at least not too far. Jack hoped not. He stayed on the trail, calling for Mark until his voice was raw and his feet ached, but had no luck. He went back to his car and slowly drove the nearest roads, most of which were unpaved. Still, he was unable to find his boyfriend, so he finally turned back just as dusk began to set in, hoping that Mark would be safe for the night, wherever he was. 

 

A few minutes away from the house, he noticed a familiar mop of thick, black hair and her felt his heart start beating again. Mark was walking amongst a small herd of sheep, no doubt escapees from their field. He was carrying one of the lambs, sweating through his shirt and spattered in dirt. The loose 'R' had finally come free from the collar so that is now read 'M A K'. Jack had never seen a more beautiful being in his life.

 

"Mark!" The irishman called hoarsely as he left the car, not even bothering to shut the door as he ran to the former american.

 

The sheep startled and scattered a short distance at the shout, though stayed nearby as Mark still had one of their lambs. Mark turned to his name, shifting his weight nervously and looking at a loss for words.

 

Jack stopped short, not sure what was allowed now. He wanted nothing more than to run to Mark, wrap him in his arms, and never let go. He couldn’t do that. He’d snapped at Mark for no reason and had lost the right. Also, there was a damn sheep in the way.

 

“I’m sorry…” Jack began once he’d found his voice.

 

Mark took a deep breath and let it out in a huff. 

 

“Come on. We should get these sheep back in their fence before it gets any darker.” Mark stated, turning and continuing on his way. 

 

Jack locked the car and followed without a second thought. The sheep shied away at first, but grew used to him within minutes. They walked in a cold, uncomfortable silence for a while before reaching a recently patched fence. 

 

An old man was seated on the fence, head held low so that his hat covered his face. He looked up at the sound of bleating, and grinned. 

 

“Thank ye fer findin’ my flock. Got t’e fence all fixed up.”

 

With that, the old man hopped down and unlatched the gate, allowing Mark to carry the lamb into the yard. The rest of the sheep followed easily, the gate closing behind them. Mark climbed back over and brushed off his shirt. 

 

“You only lost the six, right?” Mark asked.

 

The shepherd nodded his confirmation, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. 

 

“No, you don’t have to pay me. It’s fine.” Mark stated.

 

The shepherd insisted, which grew into a debate for a few minutes in which Jack stopped paying attention in order to try to think up ways to make up to Mark for his earlier behavior. Whatever Mark asked of him would be his, Jack didn’t care if he asked for the fuckin' moon. He would find a way.

 

The walked back to the car and drove the rest of the way home still in silence.

 

“I’m taking a shower.” Was the first thing Mark said as he began taking off his collar once they were both indoors.

 

Mark then realized the collar was missing a letter, and Jack noticed the deep brown eyes grow misty. His heart shattered as the american broke down and cried, plopping down on the couch and dropping his face into his hands. 

 

Jack rushed to his partner, deciding if he was pushed away it would only be fair. He couldn’t just do nothing with Mark in this state. He had obviously had a very stressful day, and Jack knew he had made a poor start of it. Mark didn’t push him away though, melting into his arms as a choked sob tore through him.

 

“I’ll get ye a new collar.” Jack promised, rubbing Mark’s back. “A real pretty one. More than one. Any colors ye want, and then ye can coordinate yer outfits with ‘em.” Mark quieted a little, and Jack continued with what he really needed to say. “I’m sorry fer earlier. I was mad but not at you. Niall pissed me off and I lashed out. I know I shouldn’t have an’ I’m so sorry.”

 

“Stop.” Marks said sharply, though his voice was low. “I get it, I just… “ He trailed off, unsure of how to continue. 

 

They separated so Mark could bathe and Jack realized that he had hardly eaten anything all day. Truthfully he wasn’t hungry, but figured Mark could be so he quickly called in for a pizza delivery. He spent the time tidying up the house, taking comfort in the muffled spatter of water that meant Mark was home.

 

When the pizza arrived and Mark was all clean they ate together on the couch in silence for a few minutes until the tension finally broke with the half-korean falling into a sudden bout of laughter. Reflexively, Jack let out his own startled laugh. It continued for a while until Jack had to question it.

 

“What are we even laughing at?”

 

Mark just shrugged and smiled. “We should play GTA.”

 

Jack grinned. He would still work toward making up for his poor behavior earlier, but they would be fine.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so short. I'm sorry.

Jack held to his word and within a couple of weeks Mark had an entire rainbow of collars, all of which had his name fastened in just like his old one had. The inner lining of each was softer than the old, with words embroidered in. The inner words were different for each color. The red read ‘strength’, for example, while the green said ‘loved’, the pink ‘humor’, and so on. 

 

Mark hadn’t thought the offer had been serious, but upon having tangible proof that Jack had not been joking at all, he had to admit he felt a bit giddy. The fact that the irishman had to have spent so much time and thought to have them all custom made, and just to make Mark feel better, was pleasantly shocking and almost too much. 

 

He put all the collars on his crate in his room, letting most of them stay in the box before picking out the simple black one that read ‘my good boy’ on the inside. He took it to Jack for buckling, then went back to his room to put on his knee pads. After everything he sorely needed the break from human worries. Together, the boys ran through a simple training drill and went outside for walkies even though it had only just stopped raining. 

 

Usually Jack didn’t like to let Mark crawl around outside when it was wet out, which limited the walks some, but he couldn’t deny his partner anything now. He even let the leash slacken, deciding not to worry about the wet grass clinging to the Dog’s forearms or the mud on his hands. It clearly wasn’t bothering Mark. 

 

When the walk was done Jack went inside first to get a small towel, tying Mark’s leash to the door handle outside. He watched Mark wait through the window a while, a smile on his face before opening the door and untying the leash. Mark moved to crawl quickly inside.

 

“No. Sit.” Jack commanded. 

 

Mark halted himself quickly, falling into the familiar posture ordered of him. He whined apologetically. Jack patted his head and knelt down.

 

“Paw.”

 

Mark lifted his right hand and Jack took the towel to it, cleaning off the majority of drying mud and grass, before setting it down and repeating the command. Mark lifted the same hand and only barely hid a teasing grin.

 

“Sassy boys don’t get treats, ye know I meant th’ other one.” Jack sighed in mock exasperation, though he was amused. “C’mon, be a good boy fer me. Paw?”

 

Mark smiled and lifted his left hand which was cleaned up as well. The process repeated with both knees, and then he was finally allowed to step inside. Still leashed, Jack lead him to the bathroom and ran the water, as the towel had only done so much. He would probably have to mop later as well, a small price to pay for comfort.

 

After bath time Jack sat down to edit, Mark laying on the floor by his feet, still blissfully in his headspace and appearing half asleep. He thought of hopping to twitter to do some damage control, but he’d been avoiding it since The Incident. He would still respond to positive comments that were unrelated to what had happened at first, but he had to dig for those and it was too exhausting to deal with all at once so he had decided to give it a few days for everyone to calm down. 

 

He and Mark hadn’t talked about it yet. They needed to. He looked down at the Dog, happy and calm for the moment. His hands left his keyboard and he bent to run his fingers through soft, dark hair. Mark stirred just enough to turn his head and nuzzle the hand touching him. That conversation could wait another day. 

 

Mark woke from his floor nap about an hour later, stretching and walking bipedally to his room, presumably to get his own videos done, though they would be late as usual. His followers were used to late, at least.


End file.
